So the hash is my legs currently. Ran the over night seven miler (with a considerable break in between of course.) I just wanted to quit. Real bad. Everything is just broken down, feels like knots in the quads. Whine whine whine. For some reason I didn't quit, and muddled through it. Late night running is always a little surreal. It makes you feel like you are in a different world. Moving along streets that are normally packed with traffic and now are empty, sky is dark, wind is blowing, sometimes I like it better than the "real" day time world. Sometimes when drunken teenagers drive by screaming obscenities, I would prefer the day time, or at least wish I had a rocket launcher in my hands...
Still feeling it after the Sunday long run. Leg pain, of all 31 Baskins flavors. So like many things I have been procrastinating. What am I doing? Why am I still running? What are my goals? Do I have any goals? How many consecutive questions can I ask? Have you ever played the have a conversation by only asking question game? Is it obvious that it is really annoying to participate in or be forced to listen to? Does it seem like a challenge to come up with anything other than rhetorical questions? Should I run the marathon? Should I keep running every day? Why do I keep hearing advice to stop running? Why is there such a stigma attached to running by non-runners? Why do non-runners think that anyone who runs regularly will require weekly knee replacement surgery? Why do you run? Seriously? Why did the Tigers ever trade John Smoltz for Doyle Alexander? Why do they not allow adults to enter the 50m fun run? Why ask why? Goodbye?
Today was a unique day to say the least. One of my reasons for running every day for a year, and to this point was to remember and pray for a friend of mine who was doing his second deployment to Iraq. The amount of time these guys and gals spend away from their family is immense, and it is an enormous sacrifice. Today I got to do a ten miler with him! Back from deployment, safe and sound, I casually mentioned that I was going out for ten and he said lets do it. Nice trail run, good chance to catch up on the goings on (I even managed to talk and run at the same time!) good weather. 9.1 in a comfortable 1:45. I'm normally a solo, solitary, middle of the night in the darkness runner, but running with someone today was good.
7.0 in 75:47. It is what it is and thats all that it is. How do you feel about stopping and resting and walking during a run? Do you love the Jeff Galloway, take a break every ten seconds approach, or would you rather fall on your sword and eviscerate your intestines before actually stopping the running motions? Typically I take some rest breaks, just so I can ensure my bloated corpse is farther away from the house when the forensic dogs find it on the side of the road (i.e. I can make the distance.) Today I did not. I was rather happy about that. I'm not morally opposed to taking breaks, but I know some are. Also seeing as the difference between my running speed and my walking speed are about 0.01 mph its probably hard to tell anyway. Long live sweaty treadmill runs!
Resting while you run. Don't mention this to anyone, but it was almost pleasant running the one mile rest run. Don't worry, I'm not going soft or anything, I still despise running. Wait why is that again? Oh yeah, the running part. Without the running, running is great. I spose I should be all, happy that I am healthy enought to, I have the resources to, my family encourages and supports me in the activity, I have money to spend on running shoes that will in three months be pressed into hard tack by the combination of extreme load and gravity, and I am. Hmmm sounding all cuddly with the running thing. Better stop, as in literally stop. Which is still my favorite part of running; stopping. OK that feels better.
5.0 in 49:57. I haven't had a nice "check it fools!" post in a while so here goes. Uhhh check it fools. That was nice wasn't it? Hugs all around? KK? Yeah I'm running a little low on the puffed up vitriol so that lameness will have to do. Happy to run the 5 miles under 50:00 including the amazing 3:00 of 4% uphill grade. Not beginning week seven of the non-plan of definitely running some non-race in the non-future. Don't forget that I'm an optimist!
2.0 in a lot. Like 26:14. It was a scenic stroll in the sub freezing weather, with the snow blowing, and the moon shining through. Two miles short of the prescription but made it up in the days and moments immediately before and after, respectively.
My favorite excuse is, "Hey I've already run 406 days in a row, isn't it about time for a break?" Maybe I should use it this time? The others that go through my mind:
1. Nipple chafing = pain, me no likey the pain
2. Someone might see me running, they might die or seriously injure themselves laughing, that would be cruel
3. "Who's idiotic idea was it to run today? Huh? When I find them I'm going to beat them with a damp avocado!" No running means I don't have to threaten one of my multiple personalities.
4. End cruelty to shoes. Pounding my running shoes into oblivion is really a rather heartless thing to do. Don't shoes have feelings too?
5. Finally, my alien science conspiracy theorist personality suggests that too many people running at one time might cause a lot of seismic energy to be transferred through the Earth's crust and cause an earthquake in Peru. I don't know how many people are running today, but judging by all these running blogs, there are a lot. I just can't take that chance.
or what more accurately might be called, waddling, sweating, spitting, and making little grunting noises in the moonlight. Yes sickos I was running. 1.0 in a lot. Thus commences some blogging action. Not blogging is like not running, the more you do the not stuff, the more it steamrolls into more of the notness. Notness, laziness, procrastination, mmm its like a jelly-filled doughnut with chocolate on top, and maybe some sugar sprinkles of apathy thrown in as well. Mmmmm tasty. Ah well doughnut's done, we'll give this blogging thing a try once more.
After a couple of weeks of one mile, "get this over with runs," the royal running "we" busted out a nine miler. Busted out probably isn't a very apt description of the pain, suffering, walking and waddling that made up the run, but I did hit the distance. It would have been better wearing one of those sweet Burger King paper crowns, but the royalty part will have to remain a metaphorical reference to the approximate 20 minutes I spent in multiple visits to the porcelain throne during the run. (Mental note: No more power bars before runs.) I'm sure if someone had taken a picture it would have looked very..uh... regal....
9.0 in 1:50 including time spent making kingly expressions