Just got back from the New Years 5K. Or, more literally, just emerged from the bathroom, having arrived home from the New Years 5K about 5 minutes ago. The toilet and I have been close buddies for the past 8 hours. Very, very close. Our longest separation was this morning, during the run.
Yesterday, I bought some fruit salad from a local supermarket at a huge discount – reduced from $11.99 to $2.99. The date was about to expire. I thought it would be a great addition to the snacks I planned to put out for the family New Year’s Eve countdown. Lots of carbs for me, pre-race. And such a deal.
I served the fruit, along with an assortment of other goodies. The fruit tasted a bit “off” – somewhat sour/bitter-ish. I added some sweetener. Still, no one else seemed to care for it. So, little by little, I consumed the entire thing. All by myself.
Note to self : That was a very stupid idea.
Went to bed shortly after midnight. Woke up 3:30am, feeling like I needed to vomit. Stifled the urge. Then the cramps hit. Finally got out of bed around 5am. From there on, I was on the toilet waaay more than off it. Lovely.
Hal woke up at 6:15am, and proceeded to get ready for the race. At 6:50am (5 minutes past our pre- planned “depart from home” time) I was still on the toilet – and not sure I dared leave my new “closest buddy”. Hal and I finally managed to leave the house around 7. Forget pre-race nutrition/hydration – I didn’t dare try anything to eat or drink except a little watered-down OJ, which I sipped verrry slowly. (by race start, I only had consumed a total of 6 ounces)
Four more trips to a bathroom, a short trial warm-up, and the race started. I began to run, not sure how long I would last.
Maggie passed me, offering kind, supportive words. (I had shared with her my dubious race state prior to the race.) Joe Howell and his cohorts passed me – I decided to do “the parasite thing” and draft off them.
That turned out to be a very good strategy (Thanks, Joe!) I tuned out everything except Joe’s regular footsteps. Ran at what felt like an easy pace. The main physical symptom I was aware of was a pervasive, low-level nagging nausea that threatened to get worse if I pushed it. So I just hung on.
Finally, less than .5 miles left. I picked up my pace a bit. The nausea started to build. But, surprisingly – considering how I hadn’t eaten anything, and had had “the trots” for several hours by that time – my energy level was fine. Even almost kicked the finish. Felt kind of sick after the race – and the cramps came back – so Hal took me home. Didn’t get to watch the 10K finishers or stay for the raffle.
So my time wasn’t a PR. Not even under the 7 minute per mile pace. But I achieved my first negative split ever. And I will never, ever buy discounted, ready to expire fruit salad again. So – now – back to the bathroom I go.