DNF: Do Nothing Foolish---Flying Pig Race Report

Well, the Flying Pig Marathon didn't go as planned, to say the least.

Here is the whole ugly story, as told in pictures and thoughts:

The night before the race around midnight:  My stomach is awfully rumbly.  I must not have eaten enough dinner!

1:00 a.m.:  I sure wish I could sleep!

2:00 a.m.:  Don't think about not sleeping.  Don't think about not sleeping.

4:25 a.m.:  It's almost alarm time.  I might as well get up.

5:00 a.m.:   I'm really tired, probably because I didn't sleep!  This oatmeal is disgusting.

5:45 a.m.:  Ready to go!  Eagle up!   (Me, Harriet, and Cheryl)

Mile 1:  Feelin' fine!  I'm so glad we didn't go out too fast!  This is going to be fun! 

Mile 2:  Wow, it's crowded.  There are people in my personal space!  Time to run with elbows out to gain a little room. 

(photo credit:  Flying Pig 2016 Facebook page)

Mile 3:  Oh, ANOTHER bridge.  It's pretty I guess. Wow, I'm getting HOT.  I can feel heat radiating off my face and chest.  That's weird.   I'll just keep sipping this Tailwind and stay hydrated. 

(photo credit:  Flying Pig 2016 Facebook page)

Mile 4:  I'm feeling really, really hot and now dizzy.  So Much Nausea.  Just keep sipping fluids. Should I tell Harriet in case I pass out?    "Harriet, I need to tell you something.  I'm not feeling exactly right.  I'm dizzy and overheated.  Here is my road ID with Chris's number on it in case I pass out."    

Mile 5:  Pouring water on my head and the back of my neck at the water station will help.  (It didn't.)

Mile 6:  I do not like this uphill.  Fight the nausea.  Fight the dizziness.  Keep moving.

Mile 7: (still going uphill)  Ugh.  Running makes me dizzy, so I'm just going to walk this looonng uphill.  Oh, look, it's Elvis.  If if didn't feel so crappy, I'd get a picture with him.  

(photo credit:  Flying Pig 2016 Facebook page)

Mile 8: (praying) "God, I need you to get me through this run!  There's no way I can do this on my own for 18 more miles.  Tell me what to do." 

Mile 8.5:  I remember that the half-marathon split is at mile 9.  Should I drop down?   I'm having chills, nausea, and dizziness now.  Every step is a battle.  Am I having a heat stroke?   I don't want the girls to have to take me to the hospital and for Chris to worry. (more prayer) "God, please help me to be smart and do the right thing. I don't want to do anything foolish and hurt myself.  Make it clear what I should do."

Mile 8.75:  "Harriet, I have a decision to make.  I think I may drop down to the half.  I don't think it is wise to continue feeling like this. I'm having bad chills and nausea now."  She totally agreed and practically pushed me over into the half-marathon lane!

Mile 9:   (with complete clarity after taking the half-marathon split)  I made the right decision.

Mile 10:  Oh, good grief, how many more miles do I have???   I feel like dirt.  Worse than dirt.  My energy is gone.  Ok, that's a cute sign.   

(photo credit:  Flying Pig 2016 Facebook page)

Mile 11:  Why is this downhill so HARD????   (12:00 minute pace on the downhill.....)   That guy is passing out Swedish Fish.  Maybe a little sugar will give me energy to finish. 

Mile 12:  I'm just going to walk it in from here.  No, I'm going to run.  Ok, I'll run a little and walk a little.  Oh, damn.  That was a dry heave. At least it was dry. 

Mile 13:  Don't throw up.  Don't throw up.  There are people everywhere.  

Mile 13.1:  Thank you, Jesus!  

(photo credit:  Flying Pig 2016 Facebook page)

Mile 13.2:  I should take a selfie that shows how I feel right now.  If I smile, the bile may slide out.....

6 minutes after finishing:  Which way is the hotel?   Oh, dear Lord, I don't know!!!

12 minutes after finishing:  (wandering around carrying an armload of finish line food I can't eat)   This doesn't look right.  Why am I inside the stadium??

15 minutes after finishing:  Ok, I'll Google the hotel address and use Maps app to walk back there.  Oh, it's only 0.6 miles away.  Thank goodness. 

20 minutes after finishing:  I'm never going to get there.  I wish I'd brought money for a cab.  If my arms weren't so full, I'd open this bottle of water and drink it. 

25 minutes after finishing:  Where is it???  Don't panic.  Don't panic.  Oh, thank HEAVEN, there it is!!  

5 seconds later:  Oh, man,  that is far away.  (It's the beige one in the distance behind the pole.)  I seriously feel awful.  Have I ever felt this awful before??  Just keep moving.....

30 minutes after finishing:  This is ridiculous.  

32 minutes after finishing:  Whew, I made it.  

I have absolutely no regrets about dropping down to the half.  A DNF sometimes means "Do Nothing Foolish."  I listened to my body on this day!  There will be other marathons.  (Maybe.)

I was sick the rest of the day and for the next four days with fever, nausea, fatigue, and chills.  My friends took good care of me on the long drive home.  Two of my kiddos came down with it on Sunday and Monday.  Viruses happen.  I just hope one never happens during a marathon again!