Day 3 (part 1)

“If animals play, this is because play is useful in the struggle for survival; because play practices and so perfects the skills needed in adult life”

~Susanna Miller








My run home, yesterday, scared me. It was the first time in a long time I have had the real urge to just give up. With the exception of grad school, that is. But this little endeavor, this crazy little obsession, as I thought, is already turning into an epic journey of self-awareness and discovery. This is much harder than Ironman. This is really the test I thought it would be. HOPED it would be.

After last nights near debacle I was nervous about this morning, even though my legs feel remarkably strong, still. Little rubs and chafes, little foot pain, and a little left knee pain. I woke up and they were all gone, except my toes are enlarged as if I had been, um, pounding on them for a few days.

Jan was taking a day to sleep in a little, since she has not had that opportunity for some time and will not in the near future due to work, so I had less to do. I decided to leave a half-hour earlier than usual, just to try to get in to the lab a bit earlier. I kissed her sleepy head goodbye and smooched the dog goodbye and went.

Mikey blow bubbles.

When I left, it was cold. I could see my breath in my head lamp as I walked out of the house into the early, pre-dawn morning. Arm warmers were definitely going with me today. I was so nervous about this run. I was thinking about if I was going to have to use one of my two emergency options:
1) run up the hill from the trail to the surface streets, which makes it an 8 mile run instead of 13
2) catch a bus

After last night, I really could not see me doing #2, but I still left a little sliver of possibility of #1.

I felt slow, but good. If you have never run far, over and over, you may not have ever experienced this particular feeling. I can only describe it as this feeling of being so incredibly tired and heavy, but at the very same instant feeling healthy and good. So I knew I could not run any faster, at the moment, but I also knew I could run. That instantly helped me feel better about things.

By mile 3 I knew something was different, in a very good way. I was clicking over at a faster pace, my legs were fine, my feet and toes were fine, the chafe wasn't bothering me, and I was warmed up. I was going to get through this.

And then I was at Matthews beach, my mental "halfway". I stopped to pee, and stretched. I walked a few steps. Holy shit, I feel really good all of a sudden! I started running and honestly couldn't believe how I felt. I ran a bit faster. I caught up to a guy who had passed me a couple miles back. He looked over at me with a face that said he couldn't believe the guy with the pack was passing him back, now. I could see the miles going by. I was smiling again.

I'm running to school.
I don't have to run to school...
I like running to school.

At mile 9 I felt even better and said "what the hell" and went for it. I timed 8 minute miles for the last 3 miles up to my "finish" point. Done and done.

I expected my legs to be just awful, when I finished. I expected my crazy finish to hurt me, or catch up to me. But it still has not. It is 1.5 hours later, since I finished, and my legs feel great. Is it possible that mornings are just that much easier because of the little bit of recovery? Am I beginning to adapt to this and actually get stronger?

I guess we will know this evening.