Gordon Lightfoot - Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

5-23-12  I was supposed to run 4 miles today, per the taper plan.  I only ran 3.  My right hip is still hurting a lot.  After I ran, I talked to Kai.  After talking to her, I decided that it is time to totally rest.  I think running anymore is likely doing more damage and I need to just focus on Saturday at this point.  I really cannot imagine running 26 miles with this pain in my hip joint.  I can hardly handle it for 3 miles, obviously since I stopped short of the 4 miles I had planned.

skirt

my shirt is purple

Target socks

We also talked about what to pack.  I am going to wear a running skirt and a sleeveless shirt.  I think they are most comfortable.  I'll take my compression socks, not sure if I will wear them.  I can decide later.  Kai said to bring an old t-shirt, something I can wear at the start, if it is chilly and then discard along the route.  They pick up all the things left along the route and donate to charity.  Kai also said to get a pair of knee socks at Target that I can wear on my arms (you cut holes for hands/fingers).  I will bring my hydration belt.  I know that there is water and Gatorade all along the route and there will be GU available, but I like to have my own stuff.  I need Chapstick, I need my phone so I can take some pictures, I need at least one water bottle so I can take a drink or take some Advil when I decide to do so, even if I am not near a water station.  Maybe it is mental, but I like to have my own stuff when I need or want it.
I am still very unsure that I can really do this.  I am still so disappointed that I missed my targets for training.  I never got past 16 miles which means I am going to try and pack on another 10 miles further than I have ever done.  Maybe I shouldn't look at it that way, maybe the overall strength is more important than the actual distance in a single run.  I don't really know.  On the other hand, a month ago, I wasn't even sure if I'd be running at all, so I guess I should be thankful that I have come back as far as I have.

Summer 2003 at Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes

I am excited about going to Michigan.  Matthew and Carson have not seen the Great Lakes since they were infants, about 9 years ago this summer, and of course they don't remember that.  We stayed in Traverse City at a hotel very close to where we will be this weekend. We also climbed the sand dunes with the boys in Baby Bjorn carriers.  We are planning to go to the sand dunes on Sunday after the race.  I don't think I'll be climbing the dunes, but I know the boys will love it.

I listened to Gordon Lightfoot today.  He always reminds me of Michigan because of his song, The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald.  November 1975, Lake Superior.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That big ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya

The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!