Running with Vultures

COW.UK Vultures

In the beginning, there were no cars, no people for that matter, and no road-kill – all signs that this was going to be a good run. I was a little fatigued at the end of this first six-mile loop, but I chalked it up to starting out too fast, especially after the brick yesterday, and told myself to slow down.

My legs felt heavy, had to be the brick yesterday. It’ll work itself out… and my shoes were acting weird. I’d worn my newer pair of Adidas trainers in order to get a 20 + miler in them before the marathon because up until this point the farthest they’d gone was 13 miles. I was starting to feel a few hot spots, but talked myself into ignoring them, they’ll be fine, shoes just need to stretch out a little.

Now, you know when you get a gut feeling about something and it just barely crosses the river into your conscious mind? OK, and you know how you inevitably dismiss it because it’s either too trivial or too time consuming or both to entertain? You feel it, acknowledge it, and say – eah... Well, at mile seven I knew that I should have just stopped and changed into my veteran trainers, the older Adidas Supernova Cushions that had been to war with me. But, I didn’t. The newer ones need the mileage, and you’re already out here, just come on and finish the run.

Listening to this voice was my first mistake, and ironically it was marked by a pair of the biggest crows I’d ever seen in my life circling the cornfield next to me. I looked over at that particular moment to see them circling low, swooping, and then circling again. When I first saw them, I, in fact, saw vultures. Now, there are no vultures here, so logically they were crows (actually, I think that they were hawks!), but my subconscious saw vultures, so they might as well have been vultures. That rattled me a little more than I would have liked to believe and I picked up my pace in order to get the hell out of there.

Suddenly something occurred to me. There was no hail, no snow, no rain or insane wind, nothing but perfect weather. I was aware at this point that I had no distractive combatants - it was almost as if they’d all been systematically removed to produce this artificial Christmas tree perfect day. I was alone out there with all of my fears and insecurities, and I knew that this was going to be a very long and a very different kind of run. There is no enemy like the one who lives inside of me, and I knew that someone had let it loose back there with the vultures.

Half way through the second loop, a guy in a black pick-up passed me, slowed down, and pulled over. What the hell is this? I kept running until I passed the truck again, but as soon as I did it started and then sped up (as did my heart rate). OK, calm down, you’re freaking out for no reason. Just keep going and don’t make eye contact. I crossed the railroad tracks into a populated area, and relaxed a bit. The truck passed and went on ahead of me – apparently I had held my breath because I suddenly had a wicked cramp in my side damn, you need to slow down. OK, OK.

At the end of the second loop I passed a fast food place and saw that the guy in the black pick-up was sitting in the parking lot! He kept staring at me as I ran by, just as he had a mile back, and I entertained the idea that he’d pulled up there to wait for me. You have to shut-up or you’re totally going to lose your mind out here. He’s just waiting for someone… Yeah, me! Shut-up or you’re going to make it true. I shut up and tried to push any visualization of him following me out of my head, but it was too late, the program was already running. I went through all of the self-defense moves I’d ever learned in my head, but it didn’t help and I started running faster. Slow the hell down! I realized that I was bringing all of this to life but I couldn’t stop it. I passed the crows again, and noticed that the sun was still shining and the temperature was still perfect.

Now I had a problem. My right foot was on fire as I started the third six-mile loop. I changed my course a little because I wasn’t about to run past stalker pick-up truck guy again, should he still be at the fast food place. And frankly, I was done seeing the ominous crow-hawks.

I stopped and took off my shoe and sock to see what the fire was about. This wasn’t a good idea, blisters are inevitably worse when they are confirmed, and between my jacked up pacing and the not broken in enough for 22 miles shoes, there was, shall we say, a situation. You only have eight miles to go, just put your sock and shoe back on, loosen the laces a little and keep going. Maybe not the best plan, in retrospect.

No more crows, but I didn’t need them to screw everything up at this point. How I got through the next four miles I don’t know, but I do know that they took forever and I cussed a lot. I ran through some sprinklers, ran on grass, picked some flowers, and tried to put my mind somewhere else other than on my foot. Should have stopped to change your shoes.. WHA!! NOW you – oh, you know what, just forget it.

I passed my house at the end of the third loop, and I DID go in to change my shoes. I promised myself that I would not cave and scrap the rest of the run, I mean, I only had four more miles! But you know what, sometimes things don’t go according to plan. I went back out armed with my war confidant Adidas, but it was too late for them to bring anything to the battle - my foot was all done. I only made it two more miles (and I had to bite and claw for those), the last of which I had to walk most of before I was home again.

So, it ends with 20, not 22 miles in 3:27:42. Time to start the taper, so it seems that any and all of the last six miles will have to be sacred marathon ground.

And maybe that’s the way it should be.