July 3, 2014

Thursday again.

I'm attending the group run tonight. I should probably opt out the fast kids group for this week. Probably next week too. Maybe the week after that also. It's a physical hurdle, to be sure. But psychological also. I haven't run hard in two months. Might hurt. Then what? It was halfway through this run that I cracked my leg. I finished it, then walked home, in not-the-best-decision-I've-ever-made. If I feel a twinge, will I stop? Should I? Doc says things are good, but I spent a decent portion of the morning reading about a lady who died 5 days after liver cancer diagnosis, because every doctor whiffed on the diagnosis for months.

Please don't think I'm equating these things. I'm not. Just pointing out the depths of my neurosis. Which, you probably know. Perfectly well adjusted people probably don't run enough to break bones in the first place unless they're fast enough to get scholarships/money out of the deal. Nobody is lining up to fit me for a kit. 

Still, I'm happy about this. Obviously. When you're "a runner", and not running, your identity feels a little hollow. If that sounds melodramatic, it is. But that doesn't make it false. 

So. I look forward to being a version of myself that runs, because it feels more honest, more fulfilling. Further neurosis will follow, of course. I'll feel slow again soon enough, then a mix of frustration/motivation to fix it. 

For now though, 8 minute miles will feel like bliss. I'll probably say so later.


It's later. I ran. Nothing bad happened. Quite a few good things happened.

Six miles at eight minute pace, and yikes, calves felt it, hamstrings too. Out of shape? Believe it. But the engine is there. The specific muscle patterning has waned, which is to be expected, of course. Given that it's been there before, I have reason to hope it comes back soon.

Not soon enough to do any ultras this fall, which wouldn't be noteworthy, except that there's a picture of me in Ultrarunning Magazine. I'm told. I don't read it. Apparently it's an ad for the Lawrence trail running club's 50/100 mile race, which is in September.

Two things: 1) I was running a regular ol' marathon at the time, not an ultra. 2) I sure as shit don't feel like an ultrarunner right now.

Feels just a tiny bit undeserved, but then, deserved never had anything to do with it, on my end. All the credit belongs to the photog, who snapped a pretty cool picture. To the extent that I'm in it, I'm in the way. (See below.) But I'm narcissistic enough to think this is cool anyway, so it's all good.


  1. That is a great picture! And I personally find I take the worst pictures when running, so exploit that! I think I know where it is too, if that is Clinton Lake. I gotta keep my eye out for the magazine.

    1. It is! Near the top of Sander's Mound, which is my favorite view. And yeah, photographs taken during any kind of effort tend to be rough. All I see is the knees pointing in, arms coming too high, and hair doing... something?