Crossing Bridges

With the end of darkness, I rose from my bed to tackle a 14 mile run. Coach has been giving me a range of 12-14 miles during these past few weeks. I had yet to hit 14 miles, and was sure that the ante would be increased soon. Next week, or the week after, it was inevitable.

I ate my oatmeal and decided to forego my morning cup of coffee to be out on the road sooner than later. From my front door, I would run towards an entrance to the local bike trail. I figured that it was more time-efficient this way.

But running down the same streets that you drive day in and day out can be b-o-r-i-n-g. Besides being a ho-hum sort of run, I now had to stop for stop lights, be more alert for cars, cracks in the sidewalk, and all that sort of stuff.

The sidewalk is known to be a harder surface than the paved road, but the slant of the road and the oncoming traffic kept me on the harder, safer surface. It had rained most of the night, but was not raining for the majority of the time. There were fewer cars out as I ran down the street, stepping off one curb and hopping up another. It was nice in the early miles.

I had traveled nearly 4 miles by the time I hit the trail. I ran along and enjoyed the quiet. It was still early enough that there were very few people out on the path. I moved along, calculating how far I would need to run before turning back. I crossed a few bridges along the way. While they were pretty, I wasn’t inclined to be motivated by their beauty today. Mile by mile, and bridge by bridge, my run was just function of putting one foot in front of the other. Sad in a way, my running was mechanical in nature – I was programmed to go across the bridges for the purpose of getting the run over and done with.

I realize that sometimes runs are like today’s run was for me – mechanical and boring. And while I did my best to liven it up by talking to the people along the way, I really just wanted it to be done and over with. I wonder if by skipping my coffee, I set out on a not so stimulating path. The only excitement that this action led to was me frantically searching for a open bathroom along the way. It wasn’t exactly the sort of excitement that I was looking for.

None the less, I was able to easily run 14 miles today. By the time I came home the family was up and watching TV. They were all still in their PJs and nobody had eaten breakfast. *sigh*

Several hours later the post-run muscle soreness was kicking in. I could feel the soreness in my shoulders as I fought with a vacuum cleaner that sucks – or rather no longer does. I trudged up the stairs as I carried the pile of folded laundry and wondered if it would be easier to carry less, making more trips OR to try to get it all in one trip.

Later on in the day, I celebrated my ability to score a free seat at YaYa’s swim lessons. This enabled me to gently stretch my legs as I watched him glide through the water. As I sat in my secluded corner quietly rubbing my legs, I located a bruise from yesterday’s encounter with a hard ball. Ball vs. leg and my leg lost. *sheepish grin* I let BoBo talk me into throwing with him but, like the vacuum cleaner, I *suck* at catching and throwing.

Tomorrow, I have a schedule day off from running. I can bask in the soreness knowing that I successfully completed another week of training. My rest day will help me recover AND will make my seemly boring run look a whole lot more exciting.