When your run is more like a rough night out

The Prep
I like to get all dressed up when I go out. It’s a weekend; I have plenty of time to get dolled up. The outfit has to be just right. I’ve been thinking about what to wear since yesterday in anticipation. I grab the hydration pack, a Gu, my Shuffle and maybe a head warmer just in case. I’ve already polled my friends - Are you going out tomorrow? Where are you going? What are you wearing? Yes, I think it will be an early night too; I’m not going to drink that much. I'm going for distance not speed.

The party
I’m a little self conscious and shy at first; it’s going to be a long night – er day. The first few miles I run too fast. Very much similar to the way the drinks seem to flow faster in the first hour at the bar. You lose track of things because you are talking, having fun, whatever, and before you know it, you are ½ way through your night; or your run. This is the apex of your day/night. One of your friends yells “Let’s do a shot!” which always sounds like a good idea in the heat of the moment. You pull out your margarita flavored shot blocks and choke them down with a slight wince on your face as the aftertaste hits you. You grab a chaser of water and then get back to the dance. Things feel good although you are starting to slow down just a little; you notice you can now only make it to round two of “Get low, get low, get low”. You think you must be the best looking and fastest person around though. Your dance moves/stride up the hill are definitely turning heads! You may not look as good as when you left the house but none of that matters because you are a rock star and everybody can see that!

Three quarter of the way through things are getting a bit shaky. You think “Why didn’t I stop drinking when I felt better?” translated to “Why didn’t I run slower at the beginning?”. Your night is almost over and you are focused on a hot shower and bed. The harsh lights of the club come on and you see the finish line. You come to an abrupt halt grabbing onto trees or posts for stabilizers as you wait for the cab. The last hour seems like a blur. Your memory is spotty and all you can do is keep repeating the one line from the last song over and over again to keep your head clear.

The hangover
You go home a little dizzy and very tired. All you want is to eat pizza drink lots of water and sleep. You had all kinds of plans for the day but you quickly realize that plans have changed and they now include another nap, whatever movies you can find on TBS or Lifetime and a phone call for Chinese takeout. Why do I do this to myself? I feel like the whole day is wasted because I’m too spent to move. I’m never going to do that again. I’m getting too old for this; I don’t remember it feeling like this.

Remember when I could go out all night and whip out 6 miles like I was on a moving sidewalk?

Remember when I could crank out 10 miles and then dance the night away until 2AM?

I’d like to close with a quote from the song “All My Rowdy Friends” by Hank Williams Jr. The original goes: “And the hangovers hurt more than they used to and cornbread and ice tea took the place of pills and 90 proof.”

My version goes like this: “And the shin splints hurt more than they used to and ice packs and shot blocks took the place of pumps and jagger bombs.”