I forgot to tell you that I did my long run while in San Diego. See, in training we have to do two three-mile runs during the week on our own, and then the long group run on the weekend, which I do in San Francisco on Sundays.
I talked my friends into running with me, to make up the run I was missing. They’re athletic. They didn’t mind. They’re still in shock that I’m moving my body in ANY way besides small upper body motions (knitting, typing), so this was new and novel for them. They kept glancing behind them while we ran, just to make sure I was really still there.
San Diego was hot. Not super-duper hundred degree hot, but just uncomfortable enough to make me really sweat and feel icky. I didn’t eat before we ran, and I hadn’t been running for the previous ten days in an attempt to let my shin splints heal.
You know what? Neither of those two things worked for me. T took us through Balboa Park, up and down dirt hills, through gullies and ravines. At first I thought it was novel and picturesque. But then I decided it was about four inches from hell.
In order to get our seven miles in, we did one large loop which led back to T’s house, and then we were going to do it again. Oh, no. I collapsed on her lawn and proclaimed to passersby that if I were to ever get up again it would only be to go in search of ice cream and a massage. Then J looked over at me and said the words every wimp hates to hear: “Okay, I’m going to finish the run, I’ll see you later.”
I heaved myself up, cursing and swearing, saying things about camels and various people’s mothers (but not mine, of course), and we started running again. I did put my aching foot down, though, and said that I would not go back into the ravines. I am not hill trained yet, nor do I really wanna be. So we ran around the park, where it was cooler and flatter. They encouraged me by running ahead and then doubling back. Always an esteem builder.
And the splints were killing me (you like how I’m shortening the name now? From posterior tibial tendonitis to splints. We’re pals like that). Ten days off did nothin’ for me, so I’ve decided to throw that whole rest thing right out the window. I’ve got orthotics, insanely good shoes, I’m icing, I’m arnica-gelling, I’m ibuprofening, I’m elevating, I’m compressing, I’m stretching, I’m exercising the muscles that are so gosh-darn weak. I’m not going to be stupid, I promise, but I’m just going to keep running.
I ran yesterday around the lake, and I tell you, it felt awesome to be on home turf. Pounding around the water, I felt so good. The pain wasn’t very bad at all (it usually kicks in later), and it felt great to be moving. Yesterday wasn’t a rhino day. It was all gazelle. A gazelle with a slight limp afterwards, but gazelleish nonetheless. Bring it.
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