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A not-so-mild form of self-destruction

August 13, 2019 (Morning)

Exercise Type: Run

Comments:
Explored Glen-Echo Georgetown Trolley Trail with Jacob Gaba and Noah Kravitz. It's really late now, so you can see Jacob's log today for details. I'll just add that I more or less imploded over the course of the run. I was a fatigued even when we started due to last night's hour-long tempo, not sleeping well, and just being (apparently) out-of-shape, and this only got worse as the run progressed. When we reached four miles I could see my end approaching. My lungs weren't gasping and my legs weren't burning, but I was just overall worn out. Instead of having us turn around, of course, I insisted we keep going, thus digging myself into an ever-deeper hole. I even kept us going past the place where Jacob had suggested we turn around, just because exploring is so much fun as is showing other people the cool places you discovered back in high school. A got stung by some sort of invisible insect on my hand around mile 4 that still stings 14 hours later but whatevs. I'd thought about asking them to slow down for me several times, but I so rarely do that and I'd specifically gotten the three of us together on this day because I thought we'd be a good match for each other's paces. Each time I began to feel exceptionally tired we'd hit a patch of woods again and the slower pace that comes with traversing overgrown trails offered me some respite.

It was when we hit the canal "the wheels really came off" ( o quote Ben Stern in reference to the last 20k of the ultra-marathon he and Alex ran). When Jacob said it was "only about 3 miles" back to his house, a little part of me died inside. That seemed impossibly far, especially on something as smooth and straight as the towpath with no obstacles to slow us down. After three-quarters of a mile, I caved and finally asked the guys if we could ease up on the pace. We stopped twice for us to "dip our heads in the river," an idiotic and thinly-disguised excuse for us to stop while still salvaging a bit of my dignity. When we finally turned off the canal to begin the relentless half-mile ascent to Jacob's house, I finally threw in the towel and told them to go on and leave me to die here ... Okay, what I really said was to go on without me so I could just "slog" my way up, thinking I'd ascend at a very slow jog without actually stopping or walking (I like to think I have enough moral fiber not sink to that unless I'm literally injured or ill). They, of course, insisted not leaving my carcass to dry in the street and be eaten by vultures and even offered to walk the rest of the way up if I wanted. Instead, we slogged together for a few blocks at what was probably an 11- or 12-minute pace, at which point we reached Jacob's actual street and I found it in me to pull myself up the hill in one final exhausted burst 7- or 8-minute-per-mile glory, reached the Gabas' front door, and collapsed pathetically on their front lawn while Noah and Jacob were still catching up.

Not my proudest moment.

I felt physically and emotionally beated down for hours afterward, like no food or water or ice could fix me. Only a ton of sleep perhaps, and maybe not even then. I began to worry if I'd done something to myself that would be hard to fix.

But on the plus side, great conversation! And getting to listen to Noah and Jacob talk without having to say to much proved the perfect way to lessen my misery without losing any breath. Honestly, if I'd been on my own I would have jogged much slower, much less, and made frequent excuses for myself to stop (probably to check out historical signs or some other excuse-in-denial). I still had ton of fun intellectually and socially, even if my body was actively undergoing the human analog of nuclear fission throughout the entire 90 minutes we were out there. Plus, we discovered some new trails even I didn't know about. So good run after all.