Hitting THE Wall.

I have heard about this "wall" that runners hit. A point in their race where they feel like they can't go on any further. I didn't really understand this wall.... mainly because I had never had one...

Fast Forward. Me. laying flat on the floor of my bedroom. My face landing on a pair of jogging pants(ironic). Crying. Well, sobbing. Ok, wailing.

"I don't want to run anymore"

Scott...my confused for the moment husband...sits next to me and tries to hide his smile and act very concerned about my current state...

"Sweetie...you signed up for a marathon... and you just ran 15 miles! You can't stop now"

The wailing continued for about 35 seconds. Then, after a few moments of listening to him trying to stifle his laughter, I start to laugh....and cry....but more so laugh. I imagine this moment will be re-lived in the Zibell house... except it will be with our oneday 4 year old child who is crying over a missing button on a favorite stuffed animal or a lollipop that fell on the floor and shattered. And this time, Scott will be calming down the appropriately aged person. (Unless, I lose my mind and train for another marathon...which in that case, I will definetely be in a corner somewhere wailing)

Rewind. 3 1/2 hours earlier. And the wall has been hit. And man, I totalled that bad boy. I was not even TWO MILES into a FIFTEEN MILE run and I was already done. over it. tired. physically worn out. mentally gone.

It was the worst 3 hours of my life. AND YES. It took 3 HOURS! That is how bad it was. Last week, I ran 14 in 2:22. And this week, I added not only a mile but almost 40 minutes to the run. Em to the barrassing.

Lindsay, my faithful running partner and I, tried everything we could to get over it as she, too, was not wanting to keep going. We changed things up and started listening to music for the first 5 miles instead of the last. We tried to talk about things that would take up a lot of time and hopefully distract us, like wondering if hell was a marathon race that never ended. But nothing. Two days ago, I was running a 9 minute mile. And today. I could hardly get to 12 minutes. I'm not kidding. It was so very bad.

It was like my body was not my own. I could contort my face and strain with the best of 'em and my body would react by slowing down instead of moving faster. I couldn't find a rythym and felt like I was running for the first time. I haven't been out of breath running in a long time unless I am doing sprints and I couldnt catch my breath. The normal self-talk I do was backfiring left and right because all of the sudden I had a new voice in my head cussing out the inspiring voice. And she was mean.

I wish I could tell you that I won. That I overcame the wall and bounded like a gazelle to the finish line. But, no. I jogged...if you can call walking with a slight hop jogging...to the end with a pained look on my face and an even more pained body for spending the last 3 hours in awful running form.

And afterwards, I walked through the door of my house, dropped my half frozen Gatorade on the floor and crawled to my bedroom where the carpet welcomed me. And wept in self-pity and agony. like a baby. IT. WAS. PATHETIC.

And I have a 16 mile run in 5 days. And I have 5 today. And 7 on Wednesday. And 5 again on Thursday.

So. Today, I need to make a quick list of why I am running. And maybe this will help. If it does not help...then, I may need to pay one of you to get all Tanya Harding on me. Go for the shins.

Why I Run:
For Jennifer Aniston. Well, for Jennifer Aniston's stomach. Actually, because of Jennifer Aniston's stomach. This feels like it is getting creepy. I just want to have a stomach like hers.
For my three little ones. I want to make them proud.
For me. Because I love the space and the thinking time and the music and the empowerment and the challenge.


Ok. I can do this. I just need a little more gusto. A little more Gatorade. And a LOT more carbs.

Toenails are for sissies.

I think about this blog way more than I follow through with writing on it. And when I say I think about this blog, I mean, once every few weeks. It's like journaling. I think I like it more than I actually do. Or maybe I really like it, but somewhere between red sports saturns and executive lady suits, I got old and busy.

Either way. An update for the masses. of four. again, thanks mom, Aunt Wendy, Leah and Scott. This is what family is for.

Let's break it down. shall we? In no specific order.

Running - This has taken over my life. I plan my days around it. My weekends are now boring and early ending. My mornings are filled with stretching and moaning and limping out of bed. BUT! I am in a pair of jeans that I wore for our ENGAGEMENT pictures! circa 2004. And when I say, I am 'in' these jeans, I do mean that they are literally a part of me because they are so tight. I really can't wear them in public yet, because they still push part of my butt up to my shoulder blades. But, they buttoned. And me = happy camper. with a smushed in butt. Im hoping my 16 miler coming up will change the status of these jeans to 'comfortable fit'. Either way, I am that much closer to completing my first and LAST marathon. boo to the yah.

House - We have spent the last three weeks doing EXACTLY what makes me angry at homeowners. Upgrading and beautifying in order to sell. I have joined the group that I stick my tongue out at. But, I must say, our house looks snazzy. AND the best part is Scott and I are still married. And actually going strong. For a couple that can't even 2man-kayak together, we sure did smash our record on teamwork! So, here is to selling that house.... I won't get sentimental yet. Get outta here East Gate Parkway! When it becomes official...this is when I will change my mind and cry and pout and realize the emotional connection that I have. And like in Milo & Otis... the new owners will make me walk away while yelling...Dont look back!!!

Babies - It hits me at very random times...the thought of my three babies. Mile 11 at the RockNRoll Half Marathon. Driving home listening to Run DMC. Watching an episode of Design Star. Really, it is just strange. But, I still think about them every day and I still am motivated to make them proud in whatever I do. As for our future children.... we are tentatively moving forward with adoption. I don't say tentative because we are afraid of adoption. That, we are realy excited about. But, tentative because we have so much filling our days right now and the idea of adopting sounds so big and time consuming and difficult and overwhelming. And, it could fall through. So, for someone who runs and jumps into a pool instead of tiptoes in....I can't get myself to move faster even if I tried.... And I am ok with that. And at the moments when it hits me and I am not ok with that...well, I am running or driving in a car or getting sucked into Design Star. I still want four kids. Can you adopt quadruplets? You think I'm joking. Scott would die. Literally keel over. But, I think we can take it. 4 kids? We have 2 dogs already and Reggie is smart. I bet I could teach him how to change a diaper. And Addie? Well, she would eat a diaper for sure. So, there is the whole cleaning up part. ehhhh....gross.

One day, when I stop hating on my Mac computer...I will post pictures. Scott has a blog. http://www.imaginingwindows.tumblr.com/ and he is artsy. and posts pictures. He is so much cooler than me. Give me a top 40 pop song and Coors Lite in a can and I am happy all day long...

Peace in the middle.