Laughable (AKA, AK coming soonish)

“How are your legs doing this morning?” Mr. Cookie queried when I told him I was going to go for a 3 mile run.

“They’re actually okay,” I responded.  Both of us were a little surprised because I made a huge mileage jump yesterday up to 6 miles.  “Only six miles,” you ask.  “Didn’t you just do a half marathon?” Yes, well.  Be ye warned:  he who shalt sit on his ample bottom for a month shalt lose all semblance of athleticism.  And he shalt be SMOTE by the powers of the asphalt and bad pacing and the miles and a terrible sense of direction and his thigh cellulite chafing together.  You’ve been warned.

Well, my response jinxed me and my whole run.  Clearly it was all my response’s fault.  Not a lack of running.  Not a lack of eating properly.  Nothing so trivial as that.

But, that pesky relay is next weekend.  You know, the overnight two day one in which I will run three undetermined distances about 8 hours apart from each other as part of a 12 person team one of whom I know besides myself that I agreed to do one week ago (two weeks before the actual relay).  Yeah.  That one.  So, train I must.  Without overdoing it.  No problem!

First mile, no sweat (literally, the weather was perfect).  A couple baby hills.  Second mile, I’m blindsided by the uncomfortable sensation of my legs tensing up a little.  I look at my Garmin.  Shit.  That first mile was way too fast.  It’s cool.  Short walk break, 1.5 miles.  Start running again only to think I should have seen my turn by now.  The legs get worse.  In fact, my whole body is tense and that’s creating soreness because I think that maybe in the high of that first half of the run I may have gotten turned around.  No problem.  I’m pretty sure I can get myself back.

The mile rolls away and now I’m really worried.  I look down at my Garmin again.  I’ve gone nearly 3 miles and I’m still not sure where I am.  FINALLY, I come out to a street I know.  Problem is, as soon as I realize where I am, I realize that I am nowhere near home.  To be more exact, I’m about 2.5 miles away from home.  There is no way I’m running it, either.  My legs refuse to go a step further unless those steps are performed at the pace of a three year old.  Which is to say, I have a long walk ahead of me.

Kicking myself (not literally, because my legs are too tight at this point to reach), I start the long journey home.  Ugg.  How frustrating.  How could I get so turned around?  How is it possible that even after three years I still get lost?  It feels like it will rain.  I just know it will rain.  At this point, I’m miserable and cranky and thinking of all the rotten things I’m going to write in a very dark, very angry blog post when I get home.  Take that, internet!  Feel my angst!

Except, as the miles slip away and I get closer to home and start to look around and realize how beautiful everything is.  Sometimes I’m in such a hurry to get somewhere that I forget to see all the Spring glory that has been overtaking us.  Lucky for you, my mood starts to lift.  This really is the best place to live in the Spring.  The whole world comes alive from the sad, gray, wet hibernation it sustained all winter.  I feel like if I lived somewhere warm, I’d forget to appreciate it.  But after all the grayness and cold, the bright pinks and greens and whites and yellows really pop.  Couple that with all the other people out and it’s hard to stay cranky.  Even harder when you go to cross a street and a guy in his car smiles at you and gives you a thumbs up.

When I finally saw this I was happy because I knew I was almost home:

Who can be cranky when the world looks like this?

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1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Mr. C said,

    Reconnecting with nature is yet another reason to love running.

    Also, Mrs. C. didn’t mention it, but this is a good segue to the Alaska post because of the varied vibrance of the landscapes: here it is bright, colorful, and relatively lush; Alaska, while beautiful, isn’t nearly as colorful (at least right now). Post and pictures to come.


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