Bowling just kicked my ass. I’m not kidding. Four strings of big balls. Yep. I’m beat. My ITB is screaming. My forearm is dying. Don’t ask about my thumb.
3.5 miles in drizzle and high humidity, and even my Under Armour stopped wicking. I had a weird hip pain somewhere around halfway, but then I realized I’d been running on the left side of the road exclusively, and that was the hip in pain. Duh. Switched sides of the road (despite that being running WITH traffic), and the pain went away immediately. Humans, huh?
I’m off to do some stretching and shower before the spider monkey wakes up.
I’m working hard on strengthening my entire body, and I’ve found a new avenue that never really appealed before now.
Whoa. Treadmill running is kind of more intense than street running because– hey! I have to keep the same pace the whole time, unless I get all nintendo on the machine and make it go up and down. Whoof.
So, another two miles at an 11:19 pace. Whatever that’s all about.
I jumped into Hal Higdon’s novice-level half marathon training at week eleven, because that’s what lined up with the next 5K I’m doing. Today was either a 2 mile run or cross-training. I feel like I did both.
Now, having lived in New England my entire life, and not more than 1/2 from the ocean for all this time, you’d think I might know something about when tides go in and out. But no. For some reason, I thought the time they went low was fairly constant, but today I learned that at 5:14AM, the tide is pretty damned high at the beach. Can you say, “run in gooshy deep sliding sand?”
Today, my daughter is two.
A lot of people in the running blog community have been talking about goals lately, so I thought I’d take a whack at mine.
Because I’m still in a weight loss process, I tend to get lots of comments from coworkers. They say to me, “Hey, skinny.” Or something of that nature. I find that I say back, “Hey, fatso.” This usually goes to the thinnest people in the building. But my point is that it’s just as awkward to call someone skinny as it is to call them fat.
I dunno. Touchy? Maybe. I understand that people are trying to give me recognition for my weight loss efforts. At the same time, calling me skinny is a weird way to say it.
I ran down by the river, which is a lovely part of town. There are always loons and blue herons hanging out on big orange buoys there. This takes me past the historic Lowell Boat Shop, built by Simeone Lowell in 1793, and still turning out wooden boats by hand. This run takes me past some of the biggest homes in the town, old babes with spaceous porches and monstrous yards that upslope into a hilly forest.
My body appreciated this run. It was 42 minutes of running 4, walking 1, and splitting the difference at the end. I beat my “down” time coming “back” by 30 seconds, meaning the landmark from where I started turned up 30 seconds earlier on my way back. I had two sizable hills that I used as mental toughness practice.
After two days of waking up late (er, uh, 6:10AM), I’m back to my regular running time. I did my morning ritual:
*Fuel- two handfuls of uncooked oats and a banana.
*Friends (read blogs while food processes a bit).