Slow as molasses... or Tupelo honey...

Let's just cut right to the chase here... 97% HUMIDITY?! REALLY!? 

My interpretation of 97% humidity is "3% away from running at the bottom of the ocean while wearing an Eskimo outfit." It is uncanny how much the weather impacts my running.

The Tupelo race was just a 14.2 miler, which at this point should be no big shakes for me. But dear sweet Jesus above, it was pure agony. The 5am start time didn't scare me at first glance, but that was before I realized I would be up until 11pm cheering on my Clemson Tigers as they beat the pants off Auburn. OK, so late bedtime, that's ok. When my alarm went off at 3:30am, I was less than jazzed. I somehow made it to the start line around 4:30am and stretched and wiped the remaining eye boogers off my face. Then set out at 5am sharp.

I would have taken a picture of the start line to share with you, but it would pretty much would have just been a big black square. It was completely pitch black out. So dark. And silent. It was great once the pack thinned out a little- I really enjoyed the solitude and serenity of running through the back country roads of Tupelo with nothing but the near-full moon to light my way. But I was also aware that this was the perfect setting for a horror movie. A man with a chainsaw jumps out of the bushes and I am held captive in his basement for 4 months... you get the picture. Fortunately, that did not happen. (Though around mile 9 I would have preferred that.)

The first 6 miles were pretty good. I was holding at around a 9:30 pace and trucking right along. I saw some horses, skunks, and meth labs. It was great. But then, out of nowhere, SLAM. Wall. At mile 7. MILE 7?! REALLY?! Who hits a wall at mile 7?! No idea where that came from. My legs felt like cement. I was miserable. So slow. Had one mile in there that was well over an 11:30 pace. I will spare you any more play-by-play. Just picture me running, then use your fancy Blu-ray DVD player remote to put it in super-slow motion. Like the kind of slow motion that makes faces look all distorted and eyes all squinty, and makes any and all speech sound like a dying wildebeest. Or better yet, like Will Ferrell getting shot with a tranquilizer dart:

Yea. That was me. "I like you, but you're crazy..."

Somehow, I made it to the finish line. That was the only place the photographers caught me. Ummmm really? I look like that? Mother of pearl.... I AM SO DEAD SEXY! *sarcasm, for those of you that have yet to master my sense of humor*

I wasn't shooting for any records with this run, just wanted to get the cool medal. Which I did. And wore with pride.

Finished with a 10:08 pace (2:23:49). Not that great. But I didn't die. Or get kidnapped. For those 2 reasons alone, I will mark this one off as a "win."

Are you ready for the.... HURRICANE?!

Oh, Isaac. You silly hurricane. Thinking you're all cool as you blast the Gulf coast with rain and wind and similar shenanigans.

We are supposed to be getting the dwindling effects of Sir Isaac starting today here in Memphis. Thunder storms for 4 days. Honestly, I am kinda stoked. I love thunder storms. And I am hoping it will cool things off a bit, as the cool down we experience a few weeks ago was merely mother nature dangling a piece of chocolate in front of our faces, then yanking it away and pointing and laughing while she indulged. That tease.

Point of the story: I have a race in Tupelo, Mississippi this weekend, and it SHO LOOKS LIKE IMMA GET WET. This race is a bit.... unconventional. Tie-dye shirts, scull medals, and an undercurrent of humor and jest that I greatly appreciate in the running world. The Tupelo Marathon and 14.2 miler is a very small, local, friendly race. Immediately after registering back in May, the race director shot me an email to "welcome" me to the race, and to wish me a happy birthday. Them Tupelo folk sure is kind!

All this Isaac crap got me a little worried the race would be cancelled due to flying trees and flooded roads. This was on the race website this morning, and I laughed VERY hard:

Hysterical. If there is one thing I appreciate, it is a sarcastic, smart-ass sense of humor. It almost makes running in the miserable ran that much more fun. Ok, not really, but whatever.

Sweat Your Thorns Off 5k

Let's just jump right in with a race report. Why waste time with the boring get-to-know-you chit-chat. It is only our 1st date, we have plenty of time to get to those details.

This past Saturday was the 3rd Annual Sweat Your Thorns Off 5k- a "virtual" 5k hosted by one of my favorite bloggers, The Boring Runner. (Note, you know you are an official running nerd when you begin taking part in virtual races. I am one step away from the runners version of World of Warcraft.) So as part of my long training run on Saturday morning, I dedicated the 1st 3.1 miles to Adam and his toasty event.

Straight reppin' Memphis, Tennessee! 

Please remember that the only time it is ok to be a white girl dropping a lame gang sign like this on Riverfront Park in Memphis is at 6am on a Saturday. Any other time you will be shot. But I embraced my gangsta side (and put on some Three 6 Mafia) to add some Memphis spice to this race.

I sure did sweat my thorns off with this slow 30 minute 5k... A nice mild 89 degrees and 85% humidity at 6am- quite chilly for Memphis in August, right?

Dear Winter- I promise I will never curse you again. I miss you. I love you. Please come back soon. Love, Amy Mary