
The weather forecast for Saturday called for hot, humid conditions but at least it was supposed to rain. 80% chance of rain, even. So when Kim and I met at a forest preserve about halfway between our houses at 7 AM on Saturday morning to do our run, we were optimistic. So optimistic, in fact, that we both left our sunglasses in the car.
When we started our run it was overcast. See above photo. We were excited to tackle our respective distances and excited to be running together. My goal? 16 miles. The longest distance I've ever run. Kim's goal? 12 miles. We started out nice and strong, if a bit too fast. And after a slight detour off-course, we made it back onto the forest preserve path that wound through the trees.
Our plan was to stick to the one minute walk break every three miles, but the weather had other plans. That rain the meterologists predicted? Never materialized. The heat and the sun? They both showed up. The longer we were out there the hotter and sunnier it got necessitating a few extra walk breaks.

Still, I felt good. I felt strong. I was amazed at how good I felt when we made it back to the car after 12 miles. We took a short break for Kim to switch to her bike. I ate a few sports beans and a few grapes that Kim produced from a cooler in her car. The cold grapes tasted heavenly in my mouth but when I started running again I realized that they didn't feel so heavenly in my stomach.
Kim did her best to keep me distracted while she biked next to me. At one point she interrupted our conversation to say "Erin! Turn around!" I looked back over my shoulder and saw a very bare man's ass. Yes, you read that right. Bare ass on the forest preserve path. He was running while holding his clothes in front, leaving his butt out in the open air. Wouldn't you love to know the story behind that?
Still, even with the adrenaline rush from being mooned, I started to falter. The last two miles were tough. Really, really tough. The sun was shining, the air temperature was hot hot hot and there wasn't much shade. So I walked. A lot. Well, at least more than I'd wanted to. I was disappointed that I'd felt so strong at mile 12 but was struggling so much now. Just 4 more miles! I'd thought. That's nothing! Apparently it was something. I even downed an apple-cinnamon Hammer Gel (much tastier than I'd imagined!) but that didn't even help.
Still, I ran 16 miles. The furthest I've ever gone. And that's still something to be proud of.

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