because I COULD

The hole in the bottom of my left foot is finally healed enough to where I can walk on it without a pronounced limp.

Get a giant, disgusting blister (or 3), DON'T clip the skin off the top if you ever want to walk on your foot again: Lesson Learned.

I really had a fantastic time at the event on Friday. I did - as I probably already mentioned - 9 miles in about 3 hours 15 - give or take. It was still at least 100 when we started, but it really didn't bother me. There were vats of ice water and we all got free bandanas. I'd dip mine every time I went around and squeeze it over my head, tie it - still soaking wet - around my neck, and it'd be dry by the time I got 'round again.

I thought I would get bored, but the shortened route didn't feel that much shorter than the way I usually walk (1 mi vs 1.5 mi).

I put the audiobook of Stephen King's "The Long Walk" on my iPod and just went for it... my entertainment felt quite appropriate (or not appropriate at all if you consider the distance walked in THAT little tale.)

My knees were screaming agony pretty much from the get-go. I limped the last 2 miles. I got some Excedrin from Doug about half way through, but if it did anything, I couldn't tell.

I just got in to creating rituals: grabbing a cup of something (at first it was water, then Gatorade and then something else "sport drinky," but I couldn't even guess) at the aid station, dipping my bandana, stopping for a stretch at a bench 1/2 way through the loop, passing my car & waving at Doug near the start/finish.

I had my camelback with me (there were supposed to be places where you could fill up, but I didn't see where), but I wanted to conserve it so I would drink cups of stuff from the aid station and I can now add to my list of life experiences: the sensual pleasure of drinking cold water when you are truly thirsty. My camelback stays pretty cold, but it still tastes like plastic. Bleck. No... no, that first cupful of cold, clear water was... magnificent. The roulette of tastes afterwards - not so much - especially getting a mouthful of lime sports drink when you are ready for another cup of tasty water.

Everyone was really nice. It made me slightly nervous. I'm rather guarded these days because it seems like every time I try to insinuate myself in to some sort of pre-established social situation, I end up screwing up somehow - violating some kind of rule I'm unaware of - and making myself unwelcome.

It was in this frame of mind, I first viewed the other people in the event.

I scooted myself to the very back of the starting group because I knew they would all take off running and I didn't want to be in the way. Sure enough, the whole pack took off and even the other 2 or 3 walkers zoomed off in front of me and I was a speck. As the runners started to lap me, they would say "good job." My suspicious tendencies told me I was being made fun of. 'Good job, fatty, way NOT to hustle it.' It took me a little while to realize they were being sincere. I started congratulating people back. It felt nice.

There were even some ladies parked at a mini aid station on the other side of the route who actually took time to learn peoples' names and they would go "hey look - it's Liz - YAY Liz!"

Even though my knees were held together with rusty nails by that point, I still jogged the finish line just like I did with April when we walked in Irving.

I got a cap for finishing. So my swag came down to a tech shirt, a cap and a bandana. Not bad!

The race was timed - I had a little tag zip-tied to my shoe lace. It was after I finished, I truly learned another fact that my previous try at the endurance walk (2 hrs) started to teach me: feet in motion usually try to stay in motion. I stopped so a guy could come over and clip the tag off my laces and it was all I could do not to fall on his head since my legs didn't like going from all that movement to NO movement. The poor people thought I was going to pass out, but it was just my traitor legs.

(I was pleasantly surprised to learn I was 17/22 in the Womens' 3 hr... don't get me wrong - I don't care about time. I will never place or win a sporting competition of any kind. I know that. But the fact that I wasn't dead last when that's been my usual place my entire LIFE - Liz the bumbling, clumsy, fat one, last running laps, last picked for any sort of team... just reaffirms to me that I'm not making a fool of myself.)

There was food, but I didn't bother. I limped back to the car and directed Doug to whisk me to the nearest Walgreens where I bought a giant box of instant icepacks (I forgot to chill mine before the walk!!) and blister bandaids.

I went home, showered, crawled in to bed, applied ice to my affected areas... and all, but hibernated for the whole weekend.

That's about the shape of it.

:-)

The reactions to my tale of accomplishment have been split roughly in to two groups: "that's awesome!" and "why in the world would you want to do something like that???!!!" It reminds me of the tattoo sticker I used to see around "The only difference between tattooed people and non-tattooed people is: tattooed people don't care if you're not tattooed." Insert walkers/runners in to that scenario and you kinda get the picture. There's a jerk at my work that was really stupid about it: going on and on about how hot it was (ha! sort of like how my HUSBAND did) and how he didn't understand why I'd want to do something like that... I really wanted to let him have it, but of course, I have natural non-confrontational tendencies... which lead to a frustrating lack of ever SPEAKING MY MIND (sigh.)

The answer is: I did it because I COULD. I could do something that you people either CAN'T or WON'T.