Famous Last Words

In last week's post, I wrote that "The wall shall not stop me." Well, I must eat these words. On Sunday, the wall did stop me. In fact, I crashed into the wall like I have never crashed before.

The goal for Sunday was 24 miles. A couple weeks ago, I ran probably the strongest 22 miles I have ever run.

I was confident after running a strong 22 miles that 24 miles would not be a problem. Last week's 13-miler only further boosted my confidence.

I was really looking forward to this run. I started to carb load in the middle of the week. I had my route all planned. And, for the first time in forever, the weather was going to be awesome -- clear skies and warm ... maybe too warm.

At about 8 AM, Jody and I left the house. She joined me for the fist three miles. Once I left her side, the next nine miles were uneventful. I had to stop and stretch a couple times, but nothing that I had not done on previous runs.

At the 12.5 mile mark, I met up with Jody again who provided me another bottle of water and filled up my two little 9-ounce bottles (one is a diluted mixture of Gatorade and water) that I carry in my running belt. By this point, my pace had slowed.

The cloudless day and warmer temperature -- nearly 70 degrees by the halfway point -- was starting to take its toll. Also, Jody noticed that I had only drank less than half of each of my two bottles of water. But I pushed on, ready for the second half of my run.

Soon after leaving Jody, I noticed that I was having a hard time swallowing -- an indicator that I was becoming dehydrated. The inevitable was about to happen.

At mile 14.3 I briefly stopped. I couldn't explain it other than the body just said "I need a break." I relented but after a couple minutes, I started shuffling my feet again. I could not say I was out of the woods, but I felt good knowing that my break was not a long one. A mile later was a different story. At the 15.4 mile, the body could run no more. My legs felt like they were in concrete and there was no energy to keep them turning.

Although I had intended to run a few miles further South, I decided to turn around and make my way back home. After walking for a little bit, I tried to run again. Nope. Not happening. A few tenths of a mile later, I raised the white flag and acknowledged that I was in for a long walk home (at the point I stopped, I was over 8 miles from the house).

I then decided to do what I have never done before: I called Jody and asked for a lift home.

So, what happened? Simple: dehydration. How do I know? Two numbers: 181.8 and 172.4. Prior to my run, I weighed 181.8 pounds. After I got home, I weighed 172.4! Yes, I lost nearly ten pounds in just over 17 miles. Not good. The lack of water in my system meant that my body struggled to handle the sugar that I consumed in the form of the two GUs and diluted Gatorade. In short, my stomach was not happy.

It is amazing what a difference warmer weather makes when running. One might think that a clear day and Spring temperatures would be a welcome change for running. I beg to differ. I'm not saying that I would like it to snow again, but I already miss running in 40 degrees.

Next week, I am schedule to run 13 miles and the week after that I have one more 20-mile run before the marathon. I will use these last two long runs to work on my hydration so I can avoid another situation where I must raise the white flag.