Garmin=Fail!

When I got up this morning at 3:43am, I knew I would have to take my run in stages, just like yesterday. My calves were still tight from yesterday's unaccustomed tempo work, I am not yet in long-distance shape, and I was starting the run before 5:00am. Thursdays are usually my rest day: what would it be like to be doing a training run on comparatively tired legs? On the Saturday runs, I never really care about the distance or the speed and, so, it seems different that I run those on day-after-long-run legs.

I had been worried enough about this run that I arranged to meet Roll Call on the way to work, in order to have some company during part of it. Company helps me to forget how I'm feeling, sometimes.

Tired enough that I mis-calculated when I would hit Cadman Plaza and raced up there via GAP, Union and Court, convinced I'd be late to meet Roll Call. Was actually early and felt silly about all the hysteria. That was the first piece of the run: I had gotten out of the house and over to the Brooklyn Bridge.

During the next stage of the run, my Garmin started to malfunction a bit but I chalked it up to being under the overpass on the East Side greenway, which we angled directly for after crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. Roll Call and I were chatting - mainly about the intense humidity, which had both of us ready for a wet t-shirt contest, no water required - and that made the time pass pretty quickly up the East Side. He slowed down for me a bit, for which I was grateful. I was feeling pretty good, if tired, at this point but knew I had a lot more distance to cover. I had decided to use my Garmin just for timing, so that I could estimate my pace later. Then, it completely lost it: started beeping randomly and was completely unresponsive.

Its price tag was the only reason it didn't get chucked in the garbage. Totally worthless. It would have been better to have brought my low-tech watch on the run: at least I would have been able to time myself!

We cut over on 23rd to 1st Ave, then ran up 1st to 58th and cut over to points further west. End of second stage.

Now, I was on my own. This is when I started to really feel it. I could tell my weaker quad was getting tired: it didn't hurt but it felt a bit funny. My arms were tired from the water bottles and my back was making itself known. There was also a huge psychological factor thrown in. I had been counting on listening to music to help me make it through a rough second half. My Ipod, alas, succumbed to my sweat and shorted out. No tunes.

"I just have to get over to the West Side Highway."

Like a small child, I fell for it, like I always do. It's amazing how you can trick yourself, even when you KNOW that you are trying to trick yourself.

I ran over and down until I hit the crossing point at 54th and the West Side Highway. Third stage over. I had no real idea how much distance I had covered or what my pace was but I knew that I had slowed down from the pace we had been keeping up the East Side. I managed to finish this stage by counting down streets and singing to myself in my head. "Desperation Street" and "Welcome to the Jungle" were both prominently featured. A bit eerie, considering the messages of both and how I was feeling.

When I hit Houston, I started the fifth stage. The approach and crossing of the Williamsburg Bridge. It had been looming in my head for a while, so it was almost a relief to be heading towards it. First, though, I had to get there.

The run to the bridge was probably the hardest part. It seemed to take forever and there was enough traffic that I had to stop a couple of times, making my muscles tighten up more. My sweat band was useless at this point. All of my clothes were soaked with sweat. Finally, though, I got to the bridge.

Whether because I slowed down even more (I have no idea what pace I was going at this point in the run) or because I knew it would take me back to Brooklyn, the bridge was a relief. It wasn't bad at all. And I usually hate this bridge, due to the long, long incline and the super-steep decline when running from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

"You can stop on Bedford."

But, of course, I couldn't stop on Bedford. No subway. Thus, I started the sixth stage. I just needed to get to the overpass. Done: weaved through the bike lane. Next, Flushing Avenue. That's the start of the second-to-last incline on this run. I was now running just because it was the fastest way to get me home. Everything hurt. Even my pinkie.

Past Flushing and onto Myrtle. Stage eight. Over Atlantic and down to Nostrand. Stage nine. Here, I could have stopped but would have just had to walk home, an unpleasant prospect given how I was feeling. My weaker quad was really tired by now and I was back to running uphill. I know I slowed even more at this point. Speed-walkers might well have lapped me.

Finally!!!!! Eastern Parkway!!!!! Iced coffee!!!!!!

Just getting down on the floor to stretch was a project. I hope my next long runs find me feeling stronger and less like a last-place finisher.

Due to all the electronic malfunctions, I have no idea of pace - except slow - and I have no precise idea of how far I went. Based on a guess about the East Side part, I estimate between 21 and 22 miles.

Ice. And more ice. I can predict my future.