Running update: 11 miles

Wow. That went better than I thought.

Well, the run did anyway.

I woke up at 5:30am on Saturday morning with a shitty bastard headache, but all other elements were perfect; my favorite running shorts and top were clean, I had new music, it was cool and foggy and dark outside, I had my Luna Moons and Camelbak all ready, so I choked down two Excedrin Migraines and and went TO WORK on my 11 mile run.

And I mean, I made that run my bitch.

I did the first half without any strain or pain whatsoever. Knees were fine, hips were fine, boob pain was fine, feet were fine, ALL WAS GREAT.

I wasn't even psyching myself out like I usually do by going "OH, you've passed the usual turn, this is all new territory, you'll die soon!"

And then a long-feared landmark came up.

See, there's this fance grocery store we go to for meat sometimes because they have a great butcher counter. But those trips are sorta rare because it's so far from our house that it takes us all of 15 minutes to drive there.

I suppose we are the slightest bit lazy. Whatever.

Anyway, when I started to plot out my 11 mile route last week I realized that adding another mile meant that I was going to be running right by The Super Far Away Lunardi's and WHOA that freaked me out a little bit.

I mean, this is the place that's too far to drive and now I'm going to run there? And back?

That seemed wrong. But, again, the numbers didn't lie, that was the halfway mark for an 11 mile run (if I wanted to be able to run back past the community garden, which I obviously did), so I settled it in my mind and went on with my life, not really believing that I was going to run to The Super Far Away and Too Far to Drive Lunardi's.

But then I did. I ran there and turned the corner and down the road and then all the way back past the community garden (LOVE) and home. Without stopping for lights or dodging hoses draped across sidewalks because running early on Saturday means you can run in the street and against lights because there are no cars.

YAY.

But then I got home. And after a few minutes of icing thy knees and stretching thy muscles and throwing the ball for the dog, I began to feel not well in the belly.

Now, I'm no stranger to post-run nausea, but this was different. In the sense that it felt like something was eating a hole in the pit of my stomach and was then going to come shooting out my WOW-hole along with last night's dinner and perhaps yesterday's lunch.

Quickly, now.

Yeah, so, it would appear that an Excedrin Migraine, Luna Moon and tap water-fueled run is not advisable for those who want to spend any significant time away from the loo during the remainder of the day.

Sadly, I wanted to be one of those people out gallivanting about the hardware store and what not (because that is what I do with significant Time Away From the House, I go to the hardware store like a loser), but with my innards all pissed off about their satanic morning cocktail, I was going nowhere that didn't have a bowl and a flusher.

Too much?

Sorry, that's the ugly news. I've managed to turn the tables on my running life now to the point where the run is fine, it's the body-falling-apart-after-the-run that is not fine, as I had no indication during my Fabulous Run That Will Live in Infamy of what catastrophic disaster awaited me upon my return.

Anyway, I'm betting it was the Excedrin that tried to kill me. In retrospect it does seem like a bad thing to have bouncing against the walls of an empty stomach since it tastes like glue going down and smells like burnt rubber in the bottle. Imagine when it starts to dissolve? Bad idea.

So, moral of the story: Don't take migraine medicine on an empty stomach and run 11 miles unless you want to experience the condition known as Firehole.

GOT IT.