Not with the dog, though, because he doesn't like rain. Nor do I so two of those miles were on the TM, and they felt really nice. It was a short and sweet run.
I'm a bit sore from exercises yesterday, burpees and that kind of thing.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
The trail of tears
Today: 4 miles on the TM. Nobody else in the house is interested in running, not even the dog.
Yesterday: epic adventure! We were at the beach! In the woods! In the fields! On dirt roads!
My husband planned this run; he wanted to check out the trails by a lake that isn't too far (50 minutes?). We took the backroads to get there and at one point ended up on a gravel road with signs that originally said "Gravel Ends" but were edited to read "Dead End". I am apparently an optimist because I'd thought that the gravel would return to asphalt; my husband was curious to see if it was just a prank; the dog was asleep. The gravel indeed ended at an overgrown dirt road with fallen branches all over it.
We eventually got to the lake and started to run. A few minutes later, I was feeling pretty horrible, out of breath and feverish. After a few more minutes, I told my husband I had to walk; I told him to go ahead, but I was feeling off and needed to collect myself. This was not-so-coincidentally up a steep hill, which he was more than willing to walk up. During the ascent, I remembered that I had had a flu shot on Thursday and was probably feeling its effects. This realization made me feel better enough to continue running once we were at the top. Except for a short portion in a zone, I never felt good, but the discomfort became mild enough to mostly ignore.
This section of the trail went up and down forest hills and along the sides of fields. It was an interesting combination of terrains, and it makes sense: why would someone till a hilly field?
Eventually we got close to the lake again and we walked over to let the dog drink and cool off; we drank some water as well, though not from the lake. This was a really nice spot. The lake was large enough to be clean, not murky or slimy like smaller lakes and ponds, and the coast was somewhat rocky but still wide and clear enough to walk on. Our stop was after about a half hour of running: my husband was stopping his timer for the walk portions and for this sit-by-the-lake portion.
Eventually, we got going again. We ran through more woods, through more fields, and at about 59 minutes of running, we were at a road that lead back to the lake. Should we turn around here? I was feeling well enough that I suggested that we go an extra 10 minutes just to get over the 2 hr run barrier, but this wasn't the best decision. The portion of the trail ahead of us was kind of boring, as well as less-tended and through more overgrown and wild fields: we got a bit scratched up from the sharp grasses but that was nothing compared to the ticks. Lots and lots of ticks. We didn't realize this until we turned around and stopped again by the lake and saw a bunch of ticks on the dog.
(In total, we must have pulled off three dozen ticks in various stages. Most of them hadn't latched on, fortunately. The dog does have tick repellent on! I had a few ticks on me and my husband a few more than that...no bites, fortunately.)
It was hard to resume running after another lakeside sojourn, but after a short walk along the lake (oddly enough, this stretch of shore was littered by onions!), we picked it up again and both I and my husband got into a lovely zone for a couple of miles or so: the path at this point was forest, but light forest with plenty of light and little green plants on the ground, and the path itself was not too rough. At one point, we we went around a curve into a patch of sunlight and I entered into a perfect moment. My discomfort was numbed by endorphins and I was with my loved ones and the path felt so gentle and soft; a second or two after that, a cloud obscured the sun and it wasn't the same, but that abrupt close encapsulated the moment wonderfully and, well, perfectly. I have had very few perfect moments that I still remember because most of them trailed on and out too gradually, I think.
We returned to the first lakeside spot, pulled more ticks off the dog, ate and drank a bit, then finished the final return portion, with the steepest hills. Eventually, we decided to walk the last mile because the fields at this point were well-mown but the equipment had created little ruts that were tiring to run on--the dog was eager for another gear, though, because there were deer in the fields now, big healthy bouncy ones.
We had been out for a while!
This called for hamburgers, and we were twenty minutes away from Local Burger. I offered to forgo the trip in case my husband wanted to get home sooner, but the proposal astonished him. Not go to Local Burger? Madness.
We got our burgers; the town, a college town, was crawling with people wearing green and a few degrees of drunkenness. Ah, uni days! It was the perfect day for St. Patty's Day revellers too, nice and sunny and not windy. All of us got a good dose of Vitamin D.
Yesterday: epic adventure! We were at the beach! In the woods! In the fields! On dirt roads!
My husband planned this run; he wanted to check out the trails by a lake that isn't too far (50 minutes?). We took the backroads to get there and at one point ended up on a gravel road with signs that originally said "Gravel Ends" but were edited to read "Dead End". I am apparently an optimist because I'd thought that the gravel would return to asphalt; my husband was curious to see if it was just a prank; the dog was asleep. The gravel indeed ended at an overgrown dirt road with fallen branches all over it.
We eventually got to the lake and started to run. A few minutes later, I was feeling pretty horrible, out of breath and feverish. After a few more minutes, I told my husband I had to walk; I told him to go ahead, but I was feeling off and needed to collect myself. This was not-so-coincidentally up a steep hill, which he was more than willing to walk up. During the ascent, I remembered that I had had a flu shot on Thursday and was probably feeling its effects. This realization made me feel better enough to continue running once we were at the top. Except for a short portion in a zone, I never felt good, but the discomfort became mild enough to mostly ignore.
This section of the trail went up and down forest hills and along the sides of fields. It was an interesting combination of terrains, and it makes sense: why would someone till a hilly field?
Eventually we got close to the lake again and we walked over to let the dog drink and cool off; we drank some water as well, though not from the lake. This was a really nice spot. The lake was large enough to be clean, not murky or slimy like smaller lakes and ponds, and the coast was somewhat rocky but still wide and clear enough to walk on. Our stop was after about a half hour of running: my husband was stopping his timer for the walk portions and for this sit-by-the-lake portion.
Eventually, we got going again. We ran through more woods, through more fields, and at about 59 minutes of running, we were at a road that lead back to the lake. Should we turn around here? I was feeling well enough that I suggested that we go an extra 10 minutes just to get over the 2 hr run barrier, but this wasn't the best decision. The portion of the trail ahead of us was kind of boring, as well as less-tended and through more overgrown and wild fields: we got a bit scratched up from the sharp grasses but that was nothing compared to the ticks. Lots and lots of ticks. We didn't realize this until we turned around and stopped again by the lake and saw a bunch of ticks on the dog.
(In total, we must have pulled off three dozen ticks in various stages. Most of them hadn't latched on, fortunately. The dog does have tick repellent on! I had a few ticks on me and my husband a few more than that...no bites, fortunately.)
It was hard to resume running after another lakeside sojourn, but after a short walk along the lake (oddly enough, this stretch of shore was littered by onions!), we picked it up again and both I and my husband got into a lovely zone for a couple of miles or so: the path at this point was forest, but light forest with plenty of light and little green plants on the ground, and the path itself was not too rough. At one point, we we went around a curve into a patch of sunlight and I entered into a perfect moment. My discomfort was numbed by endorphins and I was with my loved ones and the path felt so gentle and soft; a second or two after that, a cloud obscured the sun and it wasn't the same, but that abrupt close encapsulated the moment wonderfully and, well, perfectly. I have had very few perfect moments that I still remember because most of them trailed on and out too gradually, I think.
We returned to the first lakeside spot, pulled more ticks off the dog, ate and drank a bit, then finished the final return portion, with the steepest hills. Eventually, we decided to walk the last mile because the fields at this point were well-mown but the equipment had created little ruts that were tiring to run on--the dog was eager for another gear, though, because there were deer in the fields now, big healthy bouncy ones.
We had been out for a while!
This called for hamburgers, and we were twenty minutes away from Local Burger. I offered to forgo the trip in case my husband wanted to get home sooner, but the proposal astonished him. Not go to Local Burger? Madness.
We got our burgers; the town, a college town, was crawling with people wearing green and a few degrees of drunkenness. Ah, uni days! It was the perfect day for St. Patty's Day revellers too, nice and sunny and not windy. All of us got a good dose of Vitamin D.
Friday, March 16, 2012
a perfect spring day
It is 21C, but we had hotter temps up to 29 C this week, and so today feels more refreshing, but not in a crisp spring day way due to the humidity, cloudiness, and approaching storms. Rather, this is what I think of as a spring greenhouse day: the air and all of its smells and moisture and heat hugging the ground closely, bright green foliage further brightened by the light-filtering clouds, and, above all else, rampant germination. Everything's growing. This isn't the stagnant sauna of summer. I walked home today through the perfumes from various tree blossoms and the nurturing dampness of a seed tray.
The heat earlier in the week is an excuse for not running as much this week, I guess. The other factors were the time change (and ensuing sleep issues), and starting a new job.
I don't usually handle the spring forward thing very well, and since I started the training for a new job on Monday, that compounded the fear that I would sleep through my two alarms, and so I mostly went through just one sleep cycle per night, I guess. I'd sleep solidly for three hours, wake up, and then just keep waking up at ridiculously short intervals, for hours. Eventually, on Wednesday night, I was able to sleep for five hours straight. Last night, I woke up again after three or so hours but was able to go back to sleep for another three. It did not help that my work start time shifted from 8:30 to 6:30 am during this week. Ultimately, I will be working mostly, if not all, evening shift, but for now I'm doing first shift. I really like the job and am thrilled to have found one so quickly here, btw, but I'm not a fan of sleep deprivation, nor of the early morning start either because it kind of wrecks me for the rest of the day. I come home and it's like whaaaaa? already almost evening? and I'm useless. Whereas, if I start at 2 or 3, I can get a lot done before then, including the all-important post-lunch nap. This paragraph seems like a product of inadequate sleep, but I'm not really sure yet.
Also, I'm on my feet except during breaks, so I had to get re-used to that. I'm not sore, but running does not appeal to me at all.
So, assuming I don't take a spin through the greenhouse this afternoon, my runs have been 2 X 1ish mile/day: to-from work, with some walking uphill. the hills are steep--the walking counts! LOL. Pretty dismal!
Edit: I forgot about the flu shot and blood tests, and the mild touch of food poisoning...it was a jam-packed week!
Hopefully, things will go better next week.
The heat earlier in the week is an excuse for not running as much this week, I guess. The other factors were the time change (and ensuing sleep issues), and starting a new job.
I don't usually handle the spring forward thing very well, and since I started the training for a new job on Monday, that compounded the fear that I would sleep through my two alarms, and so I mostly went through just one sleep cycle per night, I guess. I'd sleep solidly for three hours, wake up, and then just keep waking up at ridiculously short intervals, for hours. Eventually, on Wednesday night, I was able to sleep for five hours straight. Last night, I woke up again after three or so hours but was able to go back to sleep for another three. It did not help that my work start time shifted from 8:30 to 6:30 am during this week. Ultimately, I will be working mostly, if not all, evening shift, but for now I'm doing first shift. I really like the job and am thrilled to have found one so quickly here, btw, but I'm not a fan of sleep deprivation, nor of the early morning start either because it kind of wrecks me for the rest of the day. I come home and it's like whaaaaa? already almost evening? and I'm useless. Whereas, if I start at 2 or 3, I can get a lot done before then, including the all-important post-lunch nap. This paragraph seems like a product of inadequate sleep, but I'm not really sure yet.
Also, I'm on my feet except during breaks, so I had to get re-used to that. I'm not sore, but running does not appeal to me at all.
So, assuming I don't take a spin through the greenhouse this afternoon, my runs have been 2 X 1ish mile/day: to-from work, with some walking uphill. the hills are steep--the walking counts! LOL. Pretty dismal!
Edit: I forgot about the flu shot and blood tests, and the mild touch of food poisoning...it was a jam-packed week!
Hopefully, things will go better next week.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
highs and lows
Yesterday's run was unexceptional but still tiring: just over 7 miles with the dog. I walked up a few of the hills and avoided the big ones altogether. The dog was mailing it in too and reserved his energy for the end. He suddenly jumped/flinched--maybe he was stung but I couldn't find any bumps or swellings--and then he backed up against the first tree we came to and defecated. Most of it stuck to the tree. Was it Art? A canine poultice of some sort? This is the first time he's done something like this and I'm mystified.
This morning, it was pouring rain. Nobody's cup of tea. I took to the TM for my longest TM run ever: 1:40:00 (ten-ish miles, I guess). I put on a CD that I didn't remember playing before...it's part of a 7 disk set of club music, and some of them I've played quite often during workouts but not this one. Turns out that I didn't like any of the tracks until the 9th and 10th; I guess I'd forgotten that.
The first 30 minutes of the run were dull mentally and physically and then the endorphins started to flow and I felt better. The songs on the CD gradually got faster, and so I gradually pushed up the speed. Time passed and eventually the CD ran out after about one hour and twenty minutes. It had been mostly underwhelming. I switched to the last CD in the set which has the quickest tempos. I adjusted the treadmill speed, still keeping to an easy effort, still breathing easy, but moving.
And then, after a couple of tracks, something seemed to unlock. I felt like going faster. Near the end of the workout, I pushed the speed the highest I've ever pushed it up yet, in the middle of the 3rd of 4 "zones"--I have no idea how fast or slow anything is on this TM because I still haven't replaced the batteries required for the display--but this was fast enough for me to open up my stride and get on the balls of my feet. It felt pretty fast except for the lack of effort. It was delicious and disconcerting.
I pushed the speed up a bit higher and waited to trip and get flung off the back of the TM. A minute later I was still on the belt; the song switched to one with a higher tempo. After a few minutes, I'd fall apart, surely, but 3 minutes into the song, I was still feeling effortlessly fast. It was bizarre. I still wasn't breathing fast. This felt faster than a 800m repeat, but easier even though it had gone on for longer. How long would this last? There were springs under my thighs keeping me aloft.
I don't know because I decided to stop soon after. I valued the experience too much to smash it closed, and I started to worry that, if I let myself go until I fell apart, then I would be able to recapture only that falling apart, and not the fluidity and grace before. I'm not a graceful person, but I felt graceful and buoyant during that 3-4 minute interval; I've been striving for feelings of efficiency for awhile, but never grace because I've never felt graceful before while running.
This has also given me a new perspective on speed work, the shorter faster interval one pushes through during training. I haven't been doing any speed workouts at all because I figure that the hills are more than enough, but maybe I can incorporate some speed work during some of my treadmill runs. Oh, incorporate is the wrong word: rather, invite. Only when I'm feeling good, and without force.
This type of consideration reminds me of my time as a classical musician/student: my goals were always more mechanistic than they perhaps should have been. Could I play this passage perfectly at 120 bpm? Ok, how about a bit faster? And, always always always, how do I get it feeling so smooth and automatic that I could just let it go? I performed a bunch of virtuosic pieces, practised them until I could unleash them reliably close to perfection (and a few renditions were perfect), close to the recordings that the audience members had at home, but I never realized until later that I could have made things a lot more exciting by pushing closer to uncertainty, wrestling the performance to a precarious point. Sometimes this happened accidentally and it was so intense and vivid. But this isn't what I or most of the audience members wanted anyway, nor is this what I want from running right now. Sometimes, yes, I want to push out of the safe zone into the unknown, but not now. I want things to be easy.
The run ended up being about 1 hr 45.
This morning, it was pouring rain. Nobody's cup of tea. I took to the TM for my longest TM run ever: 1:40:00 (ten-ish miles, I guess). I put on a CD that I didn't remember playing before...it's part of a 7 disk set of club music, and some of them I've played quite often during workouts but not this one. Turns out that I didn't like any of the tracks until the 9th and 10th; I guess I'd forgotten that.
The first 30 minutes of the run were dull mentally and physically and then the endorphins started to flow and I felt better. The songs on the CD gradually got faster, and so I gradually pushed up the speed. Time passed and eventually the CD ran out after about one hour and twenty minutes. It had been mostly underwhelming. I switched to the last CD in the set which has the quickest tempos. I adjusted the treadmill speed, still keeping to an easy effort, still breathing easy, but moving.
And then, after a couple of tracks, something seemed to unlock. I felt like going faster. Near the end of the workout, I pushed the speed the highest I've ever pushed it up yet, in the middle of the 3rd of 4 "zones"--I have no idea how fast or slow anything is on this TM because I still haven't replaced the batteries required for the display--but this was fast enough for me to open up my stride and get on the balls of my feet. It felt pretty fast except for the lack of effort. It was delicious and disconcerting.
I pushed the speed up a bit higher and waited to trip and get flung off the back of the TM. A minute later I was still on the belt; the song switched to one with a higher tempo. After a few minutes, I'd fall apart, surely, but 3 minutes into the song, I was still feeling effortlessly fast. It was bizarre. I still wasn't breathing fast. This felt faster than a 800m repeat, but easier even though it had gone on for longer. How long would this last? There were springs under my thighs keeping me aloft.
I don't know because I decided to stop soon after. I valued the experience too much to smash it closed, and I started to worry that, if I let myself go until I fell apart, then I would be able to recapture only that falling apart, and not the fluidity and grace before. I'm not a graceful person, but I felt graceful and buoyant during that 3-4 minute interval; I've been striving for feelings of efficiency for awhile, but never grace because I've never felt graceful before while running.
This has also given me a new perspective on speed work, the shorter faster interval one pushes through during training. I haven't been doing any speed workouts at all because I figure that the hills are more than enough, but maybe I can incorporate some speed work during some of my treadmill runs. Oh, incorporate is the wrong word: rather, invite. Only when I'm feeling good, and without force.
This type of consideration reminds me of my time as a classical musician/student: my goals were always more mechanistic than they perhaps should have been. Could I play this passage perfectly at 120 bpm? Ok, how about a bit faster? And, always always always, how do I get it feeling so smooth and automatic that I could just let it go? I performed a bunch of virtuosic pieces, practised them until I could unleash them reliably close to perfection (and a few renditions were perfect), close to the recordings that the audience members had at home, but I never realized until later that I could have made things a lot more exciting by pushing closer to uncertainty, wrestling the performance to a precarious point. Sometimes this happened accidentally and it was so intense and vivid. But this isn't what I or most of the audience members wanted anyway, nor is this what I want from running right now. Sometimes, yes, I want to push out of the safe zone into the unknown, but not now. I want things to be easy.
The run ended up being about 1 hr 45.
Friday, March 9, 2012
the magic 8 mile
This morning: 2 easy miles with the dog, some walking uphill during that one. Can't escape the hills! We went up and down the creek path; I don't think I've mentioned the extension yet. Yes, the path actually goes further, along the river, but this part has been barricaded closed since we moved here. I'm hoping it's at least 1/2 of a mile further. Meanwhile, until the flood season passes or they finish construction (I'm not sure quite what's going on), we will have to wait.
This evening: 8ish miles on the treadmill. I started at dusk and the room gradually grew dark. At first, I felt a bit of discomfort and I could not get into a good groove for awhile. My legs were tired and heavy. The hilly 8ish mile run took a chunk out of me, and eating wheat accidentally finished the job. Turns out that the Neapolitan ice cream we've been eating for dessert this week has wheat in it. ?!!! Yeah, there's wheat in some ice cream flavours--I've given up my favourite flavour, chocolate chip cookie dough--but Neapolitan should have sugar, cream, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate, and that's it! This wasn't a cheap brand, either. At least I'm not feeling any pain, just heaviness; my guts felt a bit sore after the tough run, but I'd figured that the monster hill had torched my abs or whatever.
Anyway, I started jogging pretty slowly on the TM because I wanted to ease into it. After about 20 minutes, I was able to increase the speed, bit by bit. The room gradually grew darker, and the music grew louder, and eventually everything else receded, including discomfort. I pushed the speed up higher and higher, very gradually because I wanted to keep the run easy, but as I loosened up and the music sped up (it's a remix CD with tracks that successively get faster in tempo), I was able to do more. I couldn't get into this groove that's been happening recently, where I feel like I'm hardly moving and the base of my spine is suspended in space, but I got into another groove where my stride opened up, at it felt good. I couldn't see where the speed setting was anymore, I could barely see my feet, I was just going. It felt good by the end.
This evening: 8ish miles on the treadmill. I started at dusk and the room gradually grew dark. At first, I felt a bit of discomfort and I could not get into a good groove for awhile. My legs were tired and heavy. The hilly 8ish mile run took a chunk out of me, and eating wheat accidentally finished the job. Turns out that the Neapolitan ice cream we've been eating for dessert this week has wheat in it. ?!!! Yeah, there's wheat in some ice cream flavours--I've given up my favourite flavour, chocolate chip cookie dough--but Neapolitan should have sugar, cream, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate, and that's it! This wasn't a cheap brand, either. At least I'm not feeling any pain, just heaviness; my guts felt a bit sore after the tough run, but I'd figured that the monster hill had torched my abs or whatever.
Anyway, I started jogging pretty slowly on the TM because I wanted to ease into it. After about 20 minutes, I was able to increase the speed, bit by bit. The room gradually grew darker, and the music grew louder, and eventually everything else receded, including discomfort. I pushed the speed up higher and higher, very gradually because I wanted to keep the run easy, but as I loosened up and the music sped up (it's a remix CD with tracks that successively get faster in tempo), I was able to do more. I couldn't get into this groove that's been happening recently, where I feel like I'm hardly moving and the base of my spine is suspended in space, but I got into another groove where my stride opened up, at it felt good. I couldn't see where the speed setting was anymore, I could barely see my feet, I was just going. It felt good by the end.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
4 legs v/s 2 legs
The dog had the physiological advantage today: higher VO2 max (roughly 4X mine), and an extra set of legs which apparently do not grant an advantage in some situations, such as extremely long runs in hot weather, but definitely help him get up the hills. I was gratified, however, to hear him breathing more forcefully than usual at one point. This was during the beginning of the run on a bunch of little hills. I was feeling pretty good at this point.
Essentially, I decided to run a slightly larger loop that still hit the largest hill in town (with the option of doing the 2nd largest and steepest). I thought I knew what was coming up.
The sidewalk situation was excellent. I've gotten used to running on the road on a bunch of the streets here, but there are a few that are pinched in between hills with hardly any shoulder. None of those were on this run. When the sidewalks ran out, I was left on a wide and straight suburban street with fields in the distance. We were sort of on the edge of town. The street was appropriately named: Limit.
My favourite environment is probably open fields; I'm also intrigued by deserts, but I feel most energized among a bunch of different grasses under a large sky. Right now, there is some green but still a lot of dead vegetation and the humidity is low...it's my kind of climate. I am aware that spring will come and turn everything green and eventually steamy, which should be ok if I manage to have the same easy attitude toward summer running this year as last. But, for now, I get to gaze at miles of dead grass and hopefully I will soon get around to running fully out of town and into it (my ambitions are pointing in that direction, which is several directions actually, and I still have to figure out which will be the best).
Anyway, we saw fields in the distance and ran up the street to the major street with the wide footpath and the hill. We'd gone up and down a bunch of hills by this point and I wasn't sure if we were close to the top--at first, we appeared to be, and then we rounded a slight curve which hid the truth.
My legs died. It wasn't painful or especially bad, more comical, really. I just couldn't move very much. At one point, I felt almost as if all the energy had drained out of my legs in one swoop. If my legs could faint, they did then and there. What was really going on? Some sort of mass muscle revolt or spasm? Some large-scale electrolyte upset? Would this actually turn out to be beneficial in some way? I kept jogging ever so slowly. There was a guy walking ahead of me and for a while I doubted I would catch him. Meanwhile, the dog was trying his best to jog extra slowly for my sake. He was doing fine.
We eventually got to the top and I almost recovered during the jog down to other inclines; I appreciate more and more how the large hill flattens all the other hills. I was feeling beat by the end of the run, too beat to really distinguish between a slighter uphill and slighter downhill. Funny how getting kind of broken can make it easier to keep going.
Total 8.15 miles.
Essentially, I decided to run a slightly larger loop that still hit the largest hill in town (with the option of doing the 2nd largest and steepest). I thought I knew what was coming up.
The sidewalk situation was excellent. I've gotten used to running on the road on a bunch of the streets here, but there are a few that are pinched in between hills with hardly any shoulder. None of those were on this run. When the sidewalks ran out, I was left on a wide and straight suburban street with fields in the distance. We were sort of on the edge of town. The street was appropriately named: Limit.
My favourite environment is probably open fields; I'm also intrigued by deserts, but I feel most energized among a bunch of different grasses under a large sky. Right now, there is some green but still a lot of dead vegetation and the humidity is low...it's my kind of climate. I am aware that spring will come and turn everything green and eventually steamy, which should be ok if I manage to have the same easy attitude toward summer running this year as last. But, for now, I get to gaze at miles of dead grass and hopefully I will soon get around to running fully out of town and into it (my ambitions are pointing in that direction, which is several directions actually, and I still have to figure out which will be the best).
Anyway, we saw fields in the distance and ran up the street to the major street with the wide footpath and the hill. We'd gone up and down a bunch of hills by this point and I wasn't sure if we were close to the top--at first, we appeared to be, and then we rounded a slight curve which hid the truth.
My legs died. It wasn't painful or especially bad, more comical, really. I just couldn't move very much. At one point, I felt almost as if all the energy had drained out of my legs in one swoop. If my legs could faint, they did then and there. What was really going on? Some sort of mass muscle revolt or spasm? Some large-scale electrolyte upset? Would this actually turn out to be beneficial in some way? I kept jogging ever so slowly. There was a guy walking ahead of me and for a while I doubted I would catch him. Meanwhile, the dog was trying his best to jog extra slowly for my sake. He was doing fine.
We eventually got to the top and I almost recovered during the jog down to other inclines; I appreciate more and more how the large hill flattens all the other hills. I was feeling beat by the end of the run, too beat to really distinguish between a slighter uphill and slighter downhill. Funny how getting kind of broken can make it easier to keep going.
Total 8.15 miles.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
wasted effort
Not in running, but in yard work: there is a small fish pond in the backyard and this morning I pulled out all the plastic debris and left it on the side to dry. This is a high wind day, though, 50-70+ km/h), so I imagine everything is back in the fish pond now.
2 miles with the dog this morning, and maybe a bit more on the TM this evening.
2 miles with the dog this morning, and maybe a bit more on the TM this evening.
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