On the Road Again

Hey Justine, I am loving this easy warm up.

Since you last heard from your intrepid reporter (are there any other kinds of reporters? I wonder), she has started running again.

ALERT THE PRESS.

Yipppeee. Last week I put on my sexy Newtons and headed out for a mile. I felt sleek and fast in those things and without a Garmin there was nothing to interfere with my fantasy of having Kara Goucher next to  me, pony tail bouncing as we warmed up with a 7  minute mile, discussed her new baby, Cole and our chances of winning Boston next year.  I concentrated on Kara as I ignored  my right foot rolling in and my lower calf nudging the edge of consciousness.

That night, oh geez, my knees were killing me.

I iced.

I stared at my Newtons accusingly. 

Next day: OFF.

Next, next day: ON. I put on my good ‘ol built up Nike’s and headed out for another mile. This time no pronation, no calf murmurings and, sadly, no Kara. Sigh. My legs felt good, but far from fast and sleek. Again, I didn’t need a Garmin to tell me I was running slowly enough that Kara had passed me by so quickly she was but a blur.  That night, my knees were fine. No ice, no craving Advil. I cuddled my Nike's and whispered that I had always loved them best.

Next day: OFF.

Next, next day: time to bump it up a notch: TWO miles, baby.

I was nervous but ready...wait, it’s 89 degrees at 6 o’clock?  Seriously? We’ve had no heat this summer and now it’s smoldering. I did what any smart person would do when presented with this temperature change and napped. I woke at 7 feeling rested and apprehensive. Finally, at 8 I headed out. The heat was radiating off the sidewalk but I was running. It’s probably been a year since I ran in any kind of heat at all, so it wasn’t pretty. My asthma kicked in, my mouth was dry, my heart was pounding, my feet were…… WALKING after the first half mile. Ack. I berated myself for not running the whole measly 2 miles.  Then I ran the last mile without stopping and kept reminding myself I’d been missing this. Or not.

In other news, I lost two toenails last week. I have not been running, and yet I get to experience losing toenails due to running. The world is so unfair. Some ultra runner had his toenails burned off with acid, and sadly, I can relate. My best toenail times are right after they come off and there is no nail. If they didn’t grow back in, I’d start putting polish on the skin right there and continue wearing open toed shoes. Looking at that photo you might cringe to think of me in open toed shoes. I know I am. For goodness sake. I've got to get ahold of some nail polish remover asap.

My newest toenail. So sweet.

So, there you have it, I’ve been running a mile or two every other day, on 8 toenails and two nascent nails. The weather has cooled. I’m looking forward to getting back to my usual 5-6 mile runs with my BRB (best running buddy) Charissa. 

As I run now it is amazing how my mind takes off without me. Half my mind is busy congratulating my speedy performance and plotting a redemption trail run wherein I return to Oakland, the scene of my last half marathon debacle and this time actually run most of the course. The logical, reasonable side of my brain is laughing manically at this plot but the other side is thinking, heck you’ve got nothing planned this Saturday, let’s go for a drive, let’s just explore the trail, let’s see what happens.

I’m thinking I need to plot out a training plan to get my mileage back up and then go for a drive, see what happens.