Piano, Piano

No, not the instrument but rather the Italian word for slowly.

I'm sure I've mentioned it in the past since I hear it all the time during my fits of frustration in Italian class, while chopping oodles of carrots into microscopic squares, and it's what I keep repeating in my mind when I'm out there running. Running. Running.

Today was a huge milestone in the training process. Somehow I managed cover 20 miles of pavment. Totally not the smartest thing in the training world to go from 16 miles all the way up to 20 but for some reason today was the day that I actually chose to follow our training schedule. (It's a little more complicated than that...but just go with it.)

It wasn't fast.
I'm pretty sure it was ugly at times.
The wind was brutal (23mph with up to 40mph gusts).
It was a little scarey at times.

But you know? I did it.

And once it was done, I was thrilled about my decision to take a day off from work to just focus on this. I was extra excited that it decided not rain and although I keep complaining about the wind, it made me laugh that even my body mass (during its "no carb left behind" 3 year stint in Italy) could still get knocked around by it.

I wasn't thrilled that my training partner was sick so I had to do this solo...but while she rested up for our weekend half marathon up in Rome, I pressed on.

Which again, probably not the smartest thing. I think in the time I was out there (we'll call it 4.5 hours) I feel like 50 cars honked at me but I'm sure it was really only 25. And no, I wasn't in their street but I was running along (our normal path) dressed in running gear and yet guys looking for the "working girls" would still slow down or try to get my attention. One guy tried talking and luckily it was when I could still run so I just stared straight ahead and I think he finally realized I was jamming out to whatever he speed off. I mean my calves are eye catching (cause they're large and very white) but really?! Near the end I really wanted to break my "just ignore them, they'll go away" plan and kick a car door while expressing my disgust for their actions (in English of course) but I didn't, thus avoiding an international incident. (Where were my cyclists when I needed them?! At work?)

I'm totally safe out there- I promise! Cell phone was loaded to call at anytime, had my RoadID, & my GPS watch was tracking my route. Plus, said training partner knew where I was running and since my car was in front of her house she would know if something was up. I may crazy but not stupid!

I think it was around this time that an old basset hound who had been basking in the sun the first time I passed him was trotting towards me with something in his mouth. When I got close enough, I kid you not, he had a pack of wrapped ladyfingers and headed back to his dog house. I almost stopped to open it for him (plastic can't be good for doggies) but then thought, maybe it's his job to run down to the market?

Then again, maybe I was delusional at this point?

Those last miles were misery. The wind kicked up sand. The lake looked like an angry ocean. The air wasn't clear due to dust, pollen, and other non lung friendly things. It really was ridiculous. It was to the point where I was entertaining the idea of getting picked up by a friend in the area but when I thought that the call would consist of "yeah, I'm a mile away from your house" that was just crazy talk. So those thoughts were squished by the "okay, only a mile left...that's less than 15 minutes and there is more water than you can possibly drink waiting for you." Two seconds later "okay, you made progress...just a few more steps."

Did I mention that I was "walking" at this point? No point injuring myself this late in the game...or you know several miles prior.

I'm really trying not to exaggerate my experience. Any of you who have pushed yourself to the limit know that it can get ugly but you also know that you get through it. And that's what I did.

Granted, the thought of having another 6.2 miles to complete on race day really made me question this whole thing but seriously? At that point, what's another 6.2? And my favorite running buddy with be out there. And we'll have fun landmarks keeping us entertained.

Rome Marathon...get ready...34 days until you're going down.