I'm ready for tomorrow already. Karma kicked my butt tonight. Somehow, some way, I must have taken for granted that I loved running and that every time my sneakers met pavement my knees, shins, hips and all the connective tissue in between would be energized and synchronized. I give. I made a mistake, I really do love this thing called "running" and I love it more than I normally state out loud. Yep, it's become "what I do". I love it so much that I've committed to my first marathon in October and have tossed the idea around that I'd like to qualify for Boston as well. But tonight it didn't feel like the run loved me in return.
After Dave and I brought the girls home from a mile walk tonight, I took out alone to wrap the evening with a quick couple mile run. As I started up Barrier, I felt light and began to pick up my pace. I've been reading "Running Within" by Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott, so it seemed like a good omen that I was feeling "lighter than normal" as I breezed up the hill.
About the time I crested the hill, body parts began yelling at me in less than pleasant terms. I had a pain in my glute, the opposite hamstring was tight, my left knee began to throb and then all of a sudden my right foot began to flop onto the pavement. There was no "stride" in my step anymore. You could not hear my left foot touch ground, but the right foot sounded like a clap of thunder each time it struck pavement.
By the time I turn the corner onto Reef, I'm getting used to the "sensations" of this particular run and have pretty much worked through the issues, (except the thunderous right foot), when I find myself urgently needing to get to a restroom. I didn't care whose, I just needed one. Damn the neighborhood without a port-a-john when you need it! Again, I'm picking up my pace and the thunder that is flailing beneath my right foot is now less bothersome to me than the fact that I'm still a half mile from the only restroom I know how to get into at this point.
Well, there you have it - thundering foot, thundering tum and a run cut in half. I don't see Boston tonight, I don't even see a 5k in my immediate future. But then again, tomorrow is another day and the day after that will be another run. I vow to be grateful for the run tonight, however slighted I may have felt at the time; lest it be repeated as a necessary lesson to the one who didn't "get it" the first time.
After Dave and I brought the girls home from a mile walk tonight, I took out alone to wrap the evening with a quick couple mile run. As I started up Barrier, I felt light and began to pick up my pace. I've been reading "Running Within" by Jerry Lynch and Warren Scott, so it seemed like a good omen that I was feeling "lighter than normal" as I breezed up the hill.
About the time I crested the hill, body parts began yelling at me in less than pleasant terms. I had a pain in my glute, the opposite hamstring was tight, my left knee began to throb and then all of a sudden my right foot began to flop onto the pavement. There was no "stride" in my step anymore. You could not hear my left foot touch ground, but the right foot sounded like a clap of thunder each time it struck pavement.
By the time I turn the corner onto Reef, I'm getting used to the "sensations" of this particular run and have pretty much worked through the issues, (except the thunderous right foot), when I find myself urgently needing to get to a restroom. I didn't care whose, I just needed one. Damn the neighborhood without a port-a-john when you need it! Again, I'm picking up my pace and the thunder that is flailing beneath my right foot is now less bothersome to me than the fact that I'm still a half mile from the only restroom I know how to get into at this point.
Well, there you have it - thundering foot, thundering tum and a run cut in half. I don't see Boston tonight, I don't even see a 5k in my immediate future. But then again, tomorrow is another day and the day after that will be another run. I vow to be grateful for the run tonight, however slighted I may have felt at the time; lest it be repeated as a necessary lesson to the one who didn't "get it" the first time.
I cannot imagine running a marathon, but good luck! I would like to run for an hour. That would be my goal. I've done 45 minutes.
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