pushing again

I am still cautious, but I don't take it easy anymore. During the week I run now as much and almost as hard as before the injury. It's not... effortless anymore. I worked with incline on the treadmill, but I don't feel yet I am able to tackle my usual course around Academy, with one mile out of three uphill.

So last Saturday I went to the athletic track of La Cueva high school. I ran 9 miles, as much as I intended, the most I ran since the injury. It was perhaps a bit too much; perhaps I don't have enough basis for that yet. The last mile or so was an eloquent instance of running on empty. 9 miles means 36 rounds around the field, and it got to be repetitive, but it was better than being stuck on the treadmill.

I never ran outside in November before, and did not estimate the interplay of temperature and effort correctly. Clouds covered the sun, the wind picked up, and in a short while I was miserable. My legs were burning, my arms were freezing, and the rest of me was numb.

I filled the bathtub with cold water when I got home, just because my muscles were like glowing embers. It seemed a good idea at the time, he, he. Okay, so after a few minutes I switched over to a hot bubble bath, and the rest of the day I had a guiltless existence.

A part of me wishes I could feel justified in living without spending hours running nowhere, like a zombie. Some other part is happy and grateful that I have running at my disposal, so that, even when things go wrong, I run and they all fall into place.