It's Just Abbey

So last week I ran the Beer Bottle Open. It was a four mile race in Columbus Grove. An annual event with beer, stew and running. Huzzah!

I have been putting off this race report for one solid reason. If I had written that report right afterward it would have sounded like this:

I WILL NEVER GET WARM AGAIN! I WILL NEVER GET DRY! SOMEONE SAW OFF MY FOOT! I QUIT RUNNING FOREVER! SOMEONE KILL ME!

Okay, so that may have given some of that away. Let me explain.

It was 30 degrees and raining. No. It was sleeting. No. It was… what’s the word? Oh, it was cold and DOOMING out. On top of that I was convinced that spaghetti was an awesome idea for lunch.

MIIIIIISTAAAAAKE! (Yeah, this is gonna be a thing.)

I met up with Tank and we gathered with the other 500 people. I had a fight with my Garmin and it came on only just as the race started. We took off. To shorten the Abbey vs Tank thing… he took off and I didn’t see him until the finish line. We get it Tank you are fast. Jerk!

Mile one was awesome! Only a light drizzle and a little wind. I was running with a few guys trying to learn to draft off people. I am not good at it. Mostly because they couldn’t keep pace and I damn near died. They were big boys. So I went out on my own. I was on the proper pace: 9:30/mile. Perfect.

::stomach gurgle:: Uh oh.

Mile two. Slowing down. The wind was picking up and so was the rain. I was really glad I didn’t go with the shorts and t-shirt option. Thank you pants! Wait are we going uphill? How is the rain blowing straight at me? Crap, only half way finished? Think about warm stew at the finish line. Mmmm…. Stew.
::stomach gurgle:: Okay. No stew.

Mile three was a blur. All I remember I was cold and my legs weighed a ton.

::stomach gurgle:: Almost there, stomach. You can do it. Throwing up is not an option!

::stomach gurgle:: What did I just say? Keep it down!

Mile four was the longest mile of my life. I was pushing myself as hard as I could. I was soaking wet, I was freezing, and I really wanted to die. I am not sure how they managed it but the race was constantly windier and colder. I know. Abbey is a whiney baby. Shut up. It was cold as hell. And just when it stopped being rainy and cold there was a break. Bliss! I picked up the pace and enjoyed the last half mile and… Ohgodohgodohgod! Manure smell! Everywhere! It’s everywhere!

::stomach gurgle:: I’M SORRY STOMACH! HOLD ON BABY!

The finish line was in sight and I just threw all I had into it and bolted. There was my mom 20 feet from the finish with her warm, gloved hand held out for a high five. Was I going to deny my cake decorating partner a high five? No way. Veered off the path, smacked her a side five and back to the finish line. I crossed the line and gasped for air. I was finished! YAY!

42:18

Okay. Not the time I was aiming for but I finished without walking, I held a decent pace, and didn’t die or vomit. First race of the season a freaking success! I’d do a victory lap but my calves hurt. Tank was waiting for me and all he said was, “I like Guinness!” I’d say he was jackass but to be honest, I would have done the same thing. Birds of a feather, eh?

I finished and my face was frozen in a half smile. I met my parents and Hoppie and we all rejoiced. First race of the year! It was cold, it was miserable, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Next race is in April! Woot! Training ahoy!

Hoppie is a wonderful photographer. This is me finishing, I think. ;)