Dramatic post race complaints

So now that I've done an actual 50 miler, the question is, would I do another one? Well, I'm not sure. In terms of training for and running the race, the answer is a resounding yes. However, I don't know that I can. So far, 100% of my 50 milers have taken place the morning after a new Twilight movie is released. Now that the series is finished, I'm not sure I'll be able to complete another one. 

Now these are true besties.

Just kidding, I can always just watch one of the DVDs the night before, so I certainly plan on doing more 50s. I feel much better after my second than my first. Now, there's a huge chance that's because I spent nearly FIVE FEWER HOURS running. Yes, that's right, I "took almost 5 hours off my PR". I have to put that in quotes because you can't really compare ultras, they are all on such varied terrain, and also it's not really fair to compare a time from a 55 miler to a 50 miler. But the fact remains that I'm in better shape. 

That's not to say I survived unscathed. I got a lot of compliments on how good I look in my finish line picture, which I really appreciate. I think that was just because I was radiating happiness because I didn't have to run anymore. I absolutely felt great right after crossing the finish line. However, that faded fast. 

The car ride home was miserable. As soon as we got in the car, I was famished and ate a few Cheeze-Its. I felt I could easily polish off the whole box before we got back, but all of the sudden my stomach turned. I rarely eat much directly after races and figured it would pass. We drove about an hour to drop Matt off at his car, and my legs quickly stiffened and started throbbing. My feet hurt too, which pretty much never happens after racing, so I blame the rocky AT trail. 

After we dropped Matt off, we discussed dinner options. I decided ordering pizza would be best because I couldn't fathom having the energy to walk into Qdoba and spend 5 minutes standing while ordering a burrito. Eric suggested ordering on my phone, and just looking at the menu was making me queasy. It also seemed to be taking a massive amount of mental energy to order a pizza, I felt like I was back in college physics or something. 

We finally arrived home and the task of getting out of the car, walking to the building, and climbing the three flights of stairs to our apartment nearly destroyed me. I was freezing and shivering but shivering hurt my muscles, so basically I was being attacked by problems on all fronts. 

I told Eric that I was taking a two hour shower, and due to my lack of chafing, the hot water felt amazing. Still, as lovely as it felt to finally be warm, I started thinking how much better it would feel better to be warm AND horizontal, and decided my next stop was bed. So I pulled a move that I hadn't pulled since college - ordering pizza, and falling asleep before it was delivered. 

So, for my post race celebration, I had wine ready (both red and white, since I didn't know what I'd be in the mood for), an amazing dinner planned, a huge dessert in the fridge, and I ignored all that and was asleep by 8pm. I thought at the very least I would enjoy some TV while wearing my medal, but I couldn't even handle that. I kept waking up because my legs hurt and my body temperature seemed to be way off - I would be freezing cold, put on an extra blanket, and wake up 10 minutes later sweating. Still, I slept until 6am and then woke up feeling nice and rested.

Even this couldn't keep me up Saturday night.

Sunday, I didn't feel like a million bucks, but I also didn't have to lift my legs out of bed one by one, so already I was in better shape than last year. My plans included couch, couch, and more couch.

Medal + coffee + Forever Lazy + POMA = bliss

While being lazy was wonderful, I could feel my legs getting stiffer and stiffer so in the interest of being able to walk tomorrow (plus I also have a Broomball game!), I decided some movement was in order.

Nothing drastic, just went to the YMCA and did a four mile treadmill walk in my new JFK shirt. No one noticed, but I plan to continue hoping to casually work it into conversation.

Hideous shirt that I'm wearing
for 95% of my workouts now.

After my walk I foam rolled like crazy and did Yoga for Runners. I think it made a difference since I was able to go all the way down to the basement numerous times to do some laundry. I also helped things along with some icing, compression, and Michael Scott.

This is the view I treat my husband to every weekend.

I ate a normal breakfast and lunch but after my walk my stomach felt pretty off and the thought of anything sweet sickened me. 

Eric couldn't wait for me anymore and requested permission to dig in.

I'm pretty much the opposite of a hippy in that I rely on Western medicine 100% and don't endorse anything New-Agey or natural, but I swear peppermint tea cures all stomach ailments better than any drugs. I had a mug and then was able to enjoy two pieces of stuffed crust pizza and some veggies.

Then it was finally time for dessert.

Eric was dissatisfied with his first picture and wanted to hold up the pie like Simba.

Epic, but still not as good as my mom's peanut butter pie.

FYI, Wegmans only had one mini peanut butter pie, and I knew that wasn't going to cut it for us fatties who spend our Tuesday nights in thin mint eating competitions, so I just went balls to the wall and got the huge one.

What's your worst post race experience? I know other people have much more serious problems like projectile vomiting and stuff but waiting more than 24 hours for dessert and wine is pretty bad in my book.