Who Knew 10 Miles Could Be So Entertaining?

So today, I'm officially calling myself a runner. Not just because I ran 10.11 miles, which I did and it was fun...and humid...but because I did something that I think only a runner would do.

Last night I was super psyched to run 10 miles - I had my water bottles filled up getting cold in the fridge and a Clif Bar out and ready for the morning and at 4:15 am I hopped out of bed and was ready to go!

I was almost 1/3 of a mile into my run and I bit it - - hard. I have never fallen while running so this was kind of new to me. I would like to tell you that I was being chased by a mob of turkeys or a run away car had barreled up onto the sidewalk and I was dodging it, but no, I just tripped...over my own feet.

My first thought was WTF just happened?? Then, I had to check and make sure the lower half of my body was ok - hips, knees, ankles - all good. Now you would think that my next sane person move would be to check the rest of my body for injury - nope, I went straight to shutting off my stop watch, I didn't want this time to be reflected in my run (yes, I'm crazy).

I then moved on to looking at the rest of me and noticed a rather large bloody/muddy gash on my right hand and a totally scrapped up left elbow. I then stood and debated if I could actually get away without washing it off - although I had 4 - 8 ounce water bottles in my super cool fuel belt, I didn't want to waste a drop because it was SO humid. I did however decide that the rational thing to do would be to wash out my injuries.

It was after all of this, less than a third of a mile away from my house, that I decided to continue the run - all 10.11 miles with a bloody hand and a scrapped up elbow. This is what makes me a runner.

About 3 miles in I was concerned that if my elbow was brushing against my WHITE running tank it was going to get all bloody. It was then that I looked down and saw that the entire left side of my tank was covered in mud, so you know, a little bit of blood wasn't going to hurt it.

My dad has been encouraging me to take some mace with me - you know, just in case (there were 3 cop cars in 3 different neighborhoods this morning, I felt safe) - I'll heed his advice, but I think I'm going to start packing band aids too!

I'm not a quitter - if I'm set out to do something, I'm going to do it. I was hell bent on getting those 10 miles in and I did it - injury and all. Kind of reminds me of my freshman year of college when in the snowy icy winter I was determined to drive to Green Bay and get my books for Spring semester. About 15 min. outside of Beloit I hit a patch of ice and went into a ditch - ok, I didn't just go into the ditch, I spun around 4 or 5 times embedding my car into the snow. However, since there were no injuries and a nice guy came to the rescue I continued on to GB. Any sane person would have went home...me? I kept going...