The last long run

The first mile is always the hardest, more climbing than descent

Two and a half weeks out from race day, and I head out to our local nuclear reactor disguised as a forest preserve for a lovely run on a crushed limestone path in the wilderness that is Suburban Illinois.  Eighty degrees felt hot to me at midday, but I'll take it over the 90 that we suffered yesterday. I was all alone (sniff sniff) because both of my children came up with excuses for not accompanying me on their bikes, which would often be an enticing offer (particularly laced with the promise of lunch out).  So off I went, and decided to take a snapshot at every mile marker. I doubled back between mile eight and nine, in order to give myself just under twelve miles.  Given the fact that at Ironman, a lot of us (me included) walk through the aid stations that are positioned at every mile marker, I took the opportunity to walk a bit, pull the camera out, hydrate and fuel, then start my amble again.  I love this course, and am always sad that I can't run it more often. The drive Southwest of home is just too long, and usually clogged with traffic.  We end up at Waterfall Glen on most of our bike rides, and I've always said that I would bike out, then run, then bike home, but that, to this day, hasn't happened

Slow going mile two, also bodes poorly for speed and cadence.

Mile 4: we missed mile three, but this is the gist of the thing....not bad, eh?

The terrain after milepost 3 is decidedly easier, and more shade today was great help.

Mile 5. This is halfway, right?





Milepost 6 is right before a power station that reminds us that Argonne Lab is at the heart of Waterfall Glen.

You mean the Manhattan Project worked here? Huh.

Look behind me...there's Cass/Bluff Road that we cross on bikes.

Ho Hum.

Mile 9, and 11 today. Right beyond 91st, where we also ride.

Finished. Can't see the stomach upset, can ye?

Yet another self-indulged triathlete. Try it. It's fun!

. Now that I look at the pictures, I remember how awfully hard this run felt, and how I was sort of getting nervous about race day.  I was also disappointed that my favorite photographers weren't with me, so I sort of had to improvise on my own.  I guess it's a foreshadowing of what's to come as we enter the teen years, sigh, alas.  

Top it off, with my now beloved big gulp WWE cup.  Only sixty nine cents at the shell station on Cass Avenue for a ginormous diet soda.  Addie was sure wishing she had come along for THAT part of the ride! Chuckle, chuckle...And yes, loyal follower, you might wonder how I can stomach gas station soda and all that jazz, but really, if you walked in these shoes...in this land...you might discover that this is the least of potential offenses.  Or, to put it another way...if you ONLY knew! 
And now, to mix things up and see if you've really been reading/following, name this photo: