Blood, Sweat and Tears...Emphasis on the Blood

Last Saturday I ran 8 miles with the Luke's crew. Before the run got started out coach gathered our group for what I presumed would be the predictable "you can do it/Gipper" speech. Instead, what we heard was "Feel free to turn around at the 7-11."

What does this mean for me...the 7-11 turn around is where you turn around if you are running 7 miles. In fact, the 7-11 turn around results in you running 7.4 miles, but Luke's Locker brushes that off by saying that we are running "Luke's Miles" which must be somewhat akin to the metric system or measuring temperatures in Kelvin. Needless to say, our coach felt that 7.4 miles was close enough to 8.

In a car, I would totally agree with that. But trust me, if your assigned task is to run 8 miles, it's a long, long way between 7.4 and 8. Regardless, MK and I decided to buck the trend and run a full 8 miles. We passed the 7-11 with a flourish and kept right on running. In fact, we were the only people in our group to run the full 8 miles. Unfortunately, we were the only people who knew that. The result of running farther than your group is that you finish that much more behind them.

As we ran the return route back to the starting block, we realized after a bit that we were being followed by a man in scrubs on a bicycle. Apparently it's Luke's policy that the medical team trail the last runners back into homebase. Much like a lion trails the slowest anteloupe.

Rather than feeling proud of our accomplishment, MK and I wound up constantly slipping into our conversation with Rich (medical guy on bike) that we had run farther than our group. It was kind of pathetic, but at that point, I didn't care.

In fact, I was grateful for Rich's presence because I was in the middle of a medical emergency. At some point in the 8 miles my shirt decided to take on about 2 gallons of sweat. This sweat weighed down my shirt which caused it to press against my chest. The swishing motion of my running caused the pressing shirt move slightly back and forth. This is what we in the biz call friction.

After about 7 miles I realized that I was in some serious pain. But frankly there is no good way to tell someone that you think you nipples are being slowly sanded off of your chest. So instead I did my best to pull my shirt off the affected area and run in like a champ. But in case you are curious...here's the result...you have been warned...

Timmy

Days Left - 134

Total Distance Run - 69.32 miles