I can think of a lot of good things that have to do with the number 16.
At the age of sweet sixteen you are eligible for a driver’s license. There are 16 ounces in a pound. Pints of beer are 16 ounces. The movie “Sixteen Candles”. Joe Montana’s number was 16.
On Saturday morning I ran 16 miles. This experience was less awesome than say, the Patriots 16-0, perfect NFL season (before the NY Giants Superbowl upset!).
We spent the weekend in West Sac to share in the celebration of our friends’ son’s first birthday. The proud father, Sergeant Carel (pronounced Car-elle) texted us on Friday evening after his fair share of wine, trying to convince us to come over when we got into town. Knowing that I had a massive run in the morning, I declined and explained why. Under the cloud of inebriation, Carel asked if he could join me. Sure! On Saturday morning, he was still up for it so we set out around 9 AM.
It felt like it was 90 degrees out, although Carel confirmed on his GPS/phone/weather-checker that it wasn’t even 70 degrees yet. 70 degrees in Sacramento feels WAY HOTTER than 70 degrees in San Francisco (although I don’t think it’s even been 70 degrees during any of my SF runs yet in 2010).
Aside from feeling like I was running in the desert, this run was tough for a number of reasons:
- I didn’t eat before we left (although I ate a good amount on Friday so I felt OK with this decision at the time)
- I didn’t feel like I had enough water (although Carel strategically planned a number of refill stops into our run and carried the water bottle for the both of us the whole time; my conclusion is that I didn’t drink enough water on Friday)
- I got a pretty bad stomach cramp around mile 8 (it lasted until mile 12)
- I realized afterwards that it is not a good decision to wear a cotton sports bra for so many hours
- 16 miles, if you’ve never done it before, is just tough
But we did it. And then rewarded ourselves with some delicious BBQ, beer and company later that evening.
On our way back home today, The Chef and I stopped at the Vacaville outlets, as we usually do. The Chef has a case of Adidas Addiction; I haven’t found a treatment yet. I needed a new pair of running shoes (I’ve been using the same pair for the last year and three half marathons) and he needed some new shirts for his new job. The Adidas outlet didn’t have my shoes in stock so I ordered them tonight, but I was able to snag a track jacket from the World Cup that I’ve been eyeing online since June…
Total Miles (this week): 32