Recovery

Ice for the knees. Ice for the soles.
Don't tell Chris, that's his pillow that's doing the propping...

I ran 12 miles today (in 2:20:37). No big deal.

Yeah, just kidding. It feels like a really big deal. Because it basically sucked, and while I finished, I was not totally sure it was going to happen. Which makes me nervous for the additional two miles that will be coming for the next several weeks. Yikes!

I also don't think I realized quite how hot it actually was until I had to stop to use the porta-potty on mile 10. While trapped in that stinky plastic death trap, it became clear exactly how much heat that my body was radiating at the time. That was also the moment that I thought, "really...I'm doing this on purpose?"

I am not a fast runner. At all. I am averaging between 10-12:30 per mile, depending on how much I stop to walk, take breaks, etc. Or today, dodge through a 5K walk that happened to merge with our route (where most people were walking 6-8 deep...rude). Today was one of those days that I wished I was faster, because then I would have been done much sooner.

Not to mention, if I was faster, then maybe the 5K walker wouldn't have taunted me because I was pretty much the last one in the group trudging along, well behind everyone else. Having someone yell, "Catch up, catch up," was not exactly well received. In hindsight, I, of course, applaud the individual for also getting outside and exercising as well. "We each gotta do our own thing, at our own pace - you walk your 3.2 miles, I'll run my 12. Yeah us." What I really wanted to yell back was, "I'm on mile 9, how about you, jerk?!" But I'm doing this for me, not for anyone else. And I do not really anticipate going much faster, so I'll stick to my place by myself in the back. Slow trotting it is.

Anyway, I am currently in the midst of my post-run routine, also known as recovery. This is where, after stretching, showering, and peeling off any blisters, I wrap myself in ice packs, prop my knees, and lay in my bed watching internet tv. Usually with both a coffee and a Gatorade, maybe some chips. Dramatic? Maybe. But it's necessary. Because I'm not quite sure I could walk right now. My feet want to cry every time I stand up. And I am conserving all of the energy that I have got left so that I do not fall asleep at Batman. Chris would be so disappointed.

So this is running...