I arrived in D.C. and settled into my room at the amazing Hyatt Hotel – yes, it is the host hotel and although I did recently comment about less than stellar host hotels, this reservation had been in the works for months prior to that post. Canceling would have been downright wasteful, especially when there is a Starbucks right in the hotel lobby. I’m a reasonable person – soy latte please.
I made haste to the expo because while I was busy getting lost in downtown D.C. earlier (really, no left hand turning signals….I call bullshit), I had discovered that the line to the expo wrapped around the building on all four sides. That was something to look forward to. As I stood in line I thought about how nice the weekend was turning out to be and I looked up to see the clouds take on a nice darker blue/gray hue. Without warning the wind started blowing furiously and the sky opened up to release the equivalent of Noah’s Ark
This post is already getting lengthy – and I haven’t even gotten into the expo yet – I’m going to speed this up. The expo was great and I now know the better part of D.C.’s Chinatown . I don’t know how I got lost within a one mile radius but I did. Save your applause for the end people, it's embaressing otherwise.
The Race
With over 20,000 runners, organization is obviously key for a major race, and Cherry Blossom was on top of their shyt. I didn’t have to wait for bag check and everything flowed to the exact scheduled minute. No matter what else you take away from reading this post, the Cherry Blossom is a coveted race for a reason – it rocks. The volunteers are friendly and didn’t mind telling me several times over how I cannot have the medal mailed to me if I leave now.
Honestly, one of the best parts of racing is listening to the conversations around you while in the corral. I heard how some people were under-trained, others were first time racers, many were veterans of the Cherry Blossom, and a select few mentioned a nagging injury that might complicate a victory (actually, that was just me bitching to the girl next to me who innocently asked how I was doing). That’s how the orange wave rolls.
For the first three miles I felt amazing, I couldn’t believe I almost cancelled running this race due to the opinion of a few people who clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. My heel was doing just fine, thank you – take your concerns elsewhere Dr. Stelmach of Apple Hill Podiatry. I have my suspicions about the validity of your “medical license” anyway. At mile 3.5 I even kicked it into high gear to set that land speed record of a 9 m/m pace. Balls to the wall!
Well to settle the most basic human question, God does exist because his sense of cruel humor at mile four had my Achilles chugging along like a champion; it was my left knee that ruined my chances of the Olympic trials….et tu Brute? It was terrifying and painful while I limped off the course three times to work out the kinks (that’s what they call excruciating injuries nowadays right, kinks?) I seriously considered taking the dreaded DNF and having a super fun ambulance ride back the hotel. I wasn't that thrilled to experiment with the metro line in any case.
Honestly, it probably would have played out like that too if I hadn’t just passed the closest medical tent – another one wouldn’t be coming up for a couple of miles. My Einstein brain bargained with my screaming knee that if I got the next medical tent and conditions didn't improve, I would drop out and tell everyone a Kenyan pushed me. Otherwise…..I would gut it out and pray that someone severely mislabeled the mile markers.
At the halfway mark I was still managing a 10 m/m and was able to run through the pain so the decision was made to finish out this race. Plus I had prepaid for the medal. In the last three miles the pain even subsided enough for me to enjoy the scenery and make small talk with the other runners keeping pace (I talked to a lot of AARP people at this point and was passed by the completely underestimated wheelchair division of the race). When I saw the National Monument I almost cried with happiness. I finished the race strong and in a respectable time table for someone with several injuries (). Screw your bran muffins and bananas, give me my medal.
And the banana. I’m pretty hungry actually.
The Aftermath
I managed not to limp to the hotel, which was fortunate considering an unusually high amount of runners caught up with me and asked how I liked my vibrams. I thought it would look bad on my part to be caught in a Quasimodo shuffle but answering, “Oh, they’re great, just ease into them. No problems whatsoever …..move along now – I hear the 5 Guys and Fries opens soon, don’t want to miss that!”
When I finally got home the severity of my injuries increased dramatically as I nearly suplexed my adorable pug into a wall when she hopped onto my knee. Filling bags of ice and wincing in agony pretty much took up the rest of my Sunday evening (keep your jealousy at bay people, I can’t help but live the wild James Bond lifestyle). My left knee and my right heel are calling the shots now – neither one is a real big fan of walking, which leaves me in an awkward stride today at work. I made an appointment with my foot doctor today because I want to hear the “I told your dumba** not to run any races” in person and figure out the extent of my damages.
I want to end this post very simply though: If I had to go back in time and decide whether or not to run the Cherry Blossom, I would still do it all over again.
Edit: Since visiting said foot doctor, it's prescribed that I wear a small arch brace all day, go to physical therapy for the next few weeks, and intimately know my strasburg sock at night. To add more pain to this, I got my issue of Runners World in the mail today - damn you and your inhuman legs Kara Goucher!
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