So. Quite a week, huh.
The city of Boston holds a special place in my heart. My family is all from eastern Massachusetts and Rhode Island, and Cape Cod, the Red Sox, and New England clam chowder form a very large part of my heritage. To see these places sullied pokes at my tender spots. But I also know how very stubborn and wicked strong this clan is, so I have no worries that the people of Beantown will come back in a big, big way.
Tonight was Olympia's memorial run - Run On. It was very cool to see a couple hundred runners gather at Marathon Park for a loop around the lake. It was also very good to see the returning Boston runners, home safe and sound, as well as everyone who'd previously earned their Boston race shirt show up in them. We've got a pretty awesome running community in this little town.
But...<grumble> I'm super-NOT happy about my leg. Last Saturday, four miles into a nine mile run, my left calf cramped. I rubbed it out, worked through the range of motion, but kept going. (Really, what else was there to do? We were at the farthest point of a loop course, it was flippin' cold and POURING. Run on, friend.) I thought it odd that the cramp hadn't released, but since I hadn't actually ever experienced a cramped muscle when running, I just figured it was what would happen.
Yeah. So much for that. I spent the rest of Saturday hobbling around, then spent all of Sunday in my pajamas and compression socks, leg propped on the bed, sorting through piles of clutter because I could not move. At all. Maybe not a cramp? I'm calling it a pulled muscle and resting it. I'm sure it didn't help that I used heat the first two days instead of ice, or that I haven't used any ibuprofen at all this go-round. Really, I don't know what to do. Other than try not to panic about lost fitness.
</grumble>
I will say, though, we accomplished a never-before-attempted feat on Sunday. At 3:37 pm, for exactly 57 seconds, we had four humans and three cats on the bed. Amazing. And then it was over, and cats and claws went flying and skittering and racing out of the room. Hilarious.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Growth spurt
No, for once, not my boy. He actually hasn't grown more than half an inch this week. Pausing for breath, I assume, because he's tall enough that the air must be thinner up there. (Yes, I'm having difficulty with the sheer height of my yes-still-twelve-year-old son and the fact that he's fully FOUR INCHES TALLER than me... though he's been taller than me for months now, you'd think I'd be over it already.)
No, this is my own growth spurt. I'm a little shocked at my new "easy pace" that has made itself evident over the past few weeks. Case in point, yesterday and today:
Tuesday: Easy four miles. Final stats: 4.12 miles, 37:07, 9:01 average pace. Splits of 8:21 (whaa?!?), 9:16, 9:31 (trail), 8:58, and 8:31 pace for the last little bit. Did not believe the numbers until I saw the map online.
Tonight: Grrls run group, five mile option. Final stats: 5.70 miles, 54:51, 9:37 average pace. Started with the "party pace" group, drifted forward to the "peppy pace" group, settled right in between with a friend I haven't seen in years (who's more amazing than I can say, given this was her first run out in months and she kept the pace - yea, P!). Splits ranged from 9:10 to a 10:00 mile for the brewery hill (~150 ft elevation gain).
I keep thinking back to a year ago, when an 11:30 mile would leave me gasping. Eleven months ago, when standing on the start line for the Capital City five miler, I just wanted to maintain 12-minute miles. I finished that day with a 10:15 average pace, and realized that maybe I could actually do something with that. And now...
it's just weird, people. I don't want to put expectations on it. I don't want to put weight to it, because I don't want to fail. And yet, I'm enjoying blowing past these boundaries. My darling husband keeps laughing, reminding me that these boundaries really only exist in my head. He's right. I love him for being right, by the by.
* * * * * * *
In other news, I had the serendipitous privilege of meeting Ms Amy of Run Mom Run tonight when stopped for water at the running store. Since Amy posts pictures (which, I admit, I choose to not do), I recognized her immediately when she and her running buddy came in for a drink. Hopefully she wasn't too startled by my (loud) "You're Amy!" (artful, no?), and I missed the opportunity to wish her a happy birthday in person (darn migraine brain). They were finishing a hilly run - I believe the word "sadistic" was used - and yet looked fresh as daisies. Amy, I'm very happy to meet you in real life! (Oh, and if you're reading this at all timely, go check her blog - she's doing a birthday giveaway. Fun stuff.)
No, this is my own growth spurt. I'm a little shocked at my new "easy pace" that has made itself evident over the past few weeks. Case in point, yesterday and today:
Tuesday: Easy four miles. Final stats: 4.12 miles, 37:07, 9:01 average pace. Splits of 8:21 (whaa?!?), 9:16, 9:31 (trail), 8:58, and 8:31 pace for the last little bit. Did not believe the numbers until I saw the map online.
Tonight: Grrls run group, five mile option. Final stats: 5.70 miles, 54:51, 9:37 average pace. Started with the "party pace" group, drifted forward to the "peppy pace" group, settled right in between with a friend I haven't seen in years (who's more amazing than I can say, given this was her first run out in months and she kept the pace - yea, P!). Splits ranged from 9:10 to a 10:00 mile for the brewery hill (~150 ft elevation gain).
I keep thinking back to a year ago, when an 11:30 mile would leave me gasping. Eleven months ago, when standing on the start line for the Capital City five miler, I just wanted to maintain 12-minute miles. I finished that day with a 10:15 average pace, and realized that maybe I could actually do something with that. And now...
it's just weird, people. I don't want to put expectations on it. I don't want to put weight to it, because I don't want to fail. And yet, I'm enjoying blowing past these boundaries. My darling husband keeps laughing, reminding me that these boundaries really only exist in my head. He's right. I love him for being right, by the by.
* * * * * * *
In other news, I had the serendipitous privilege of meeting Ms Amy of Run Mom Run tonight when stopped for water at the running store. Since Amy posts pictures (which, I admit, I choose to not do), I recognized her immediately when she and her running buddy came in for a drink. Hopefully she wasn't too startled by my (loud) "You're Amy!" (artful, no?), and I missed the opportunity to wish her a happy birthday in person (darn migraine brain). They were finishing a hilly run - I believe the word "sadistic" was used - and yet looked fresh as daisies. Amy, I'm very happy to meet you in real life! (Oh, and if you're reading this at all timely, go check her blog - she's doing a birthday giveaway. Fun stuff.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)