Things Are Falling Into Place

Last night, I needed to run. Not just in the sense that I had a scheduled training run, but more of a feeling that regardless of a schedule, I needed to run. I felt like I had to do it--like eating, or drinking water, or breathing. I've never felt that about running before, and I have only felt that about exercise in general in the sense that "I need to work out to burn off the 3 donuts I had at the office today."

But, this wasn't about a calorie burn (although, that is a nice bonus as I consumed a bit of organic chocolate on Tuesday night). This was about needing to feel the burning in your muscles and lungs, about needing to feel the sweat dripping down my back, about needing to feel the wind as I ran down the trail. I have previously alluded to the fact that I try to remember that the fact I can run is a gift--and even if my running "gift" is not the same as the running gift of say, Ryan Hall, or Lolo Jones, or Susana Kallur--it is still a gift that I am physically able to run--that my body will allow me to do it, that I have the time to do it, that I live in an area where I can, that I can afford running shoes, etc. These are all gifts. I take a lot for granted, am terribly hard on myself, and am always wanting more. Running is giving me a bit of perspective that I needed.

Things are falling into place in my life, and running is helping me put those pieces in order.

Just When You Think the Relationship is Going Well, Running Decides Not to Call You Back

Friday night I completed run #24. I was supposed to run on Thursday, slept in too late to do my morning run, worked past the time to run with the Flying Irish, and then was "over it" and missed my run. I figured I would run Friday night (even though this was a "rest" day). It was warm and a bit breezy, and I had a great 40 minute run in the new Asics.

Saturday was our team run--our long run of the week. As a half-marathoner with a less-than-12-minute-per-mile pace, I had to run for 50 minutes. I ended up running for just under 60 minutes, and I ran just under six miles. The run was great, and I really felt the runner's high for the rest of the day.

I was pretty certain Saturday night that I had fallen in love with running. Running was always on my mind, running made me feel good, running gave me that glow, and running was all I was talking about. I thought that running and I were at the start of something beautiful and fulfilling.

But, running decided to play hard to get. Sunday was supposed to be an easy, 30 minute recover run. I didn't hydrate well on Saturday post-run or Sunday morning/afternoon. It was about 65 degrees around 7 o'clock Sunday night when I head out to run. I was fine for about 8 minutes until every muscle in my legs decided to tighten up and every step felt as if I were running through hardening concrete. I stop and stretched lightly, and I tried to run again to no avail. Running was not going to spend time with me Sunday. I ended up walking for another twenty minutes or so, heading home to ice my legs, take an ibuprofen, and pout.

I have another date with running tonight. I am hydrating and hoping that Run 27 is more successful.