I wish I'd taken a picture of my yard last week. I woke up to find that our spring had been buried beneath a growing blanket of fluffy white stuff. My laundry that I'd hung out in the afternoon sunshine the day before looked ridiculous with tiny snowpiles on hanging T-shirts and socks.
Today, it's a different experience altogether. I was sitting on the deck enjoying the sunshine and I had to come inside to change into a tank top and capris so that I didn't melt into a pool of springy warmth. Last week's snow is gone as are most of the piles of snow that accumulated all winter.
Another change from last week is more personal. Last Saturday morning, I ran my longest run of the year. I'd been planning to run outside but the sudden snow resulted in a change in plans involving the treadmill at Intuit. It was a fairly good run. My right leg had been troubling me earlier in the week and it started hurting again around mile 4 but only when I walked so I stopped taking walking breaks.
Anyone see where this is going yet?
Fast forward to today, and instead of completing another 6 mile run I hobbled around the block for a walk with Jack. It was my first real attempt to do anything resembling exercise since last week and it was a frustrating experience. A rather large part of me had been hoping that the pain and stiffness that has persisted all week would work themselves out if I just went for a walk. Nope. I limped and hobbled just as much at the end of the walk as I did at the beginning. I iced it when I got home and I'm just as mucked up now as I was this morning.
So. Ugh. I'd been planning on entering a half marathon clinic with my friend. It's nine days away and I can't even walk, let alone run, the starting distance. Maybe with another week of rest, another trip to the chiropractor, and a massage I'll be feeling fine in time but there's a growing part of me that's losing hope of meeting my goal of running a half marathon this summer. And that just kind of sucks.
My Name is Not Megan
1 month ago