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I Made My Legs Do It

I said yesterday that today was going to be Monday Mental Meanderings. Then I came home and went running so I thought I might do a Monday Running Commentary.

It was quite warm at work today, and I was on my feet most of the day.  My legs were not the least bit happy about it.  I believe I have forgotten to mention that I did not go running Saturday or Sunday (don’t judge).  I knew it would be a good idea to run.  I rarely run on Monday, and there was that little devil on my shoulder saying, “Three days off isn’t so bad.  You can run on Tuesday, sure, you’ll run on Tuesday.”  The devil went on to list all the other things I really ought to do that I would no doubt be too tired to accomplish if I ran.  It got boring to listen to after a while so I started thinking about other things instead.

I had also thought it was going to rain this afternoon.  Um, no. It was beautiful when I left work.  Perhaps sunnier and warmer than I ideally like it, but these are not insurmountable difficulties.  My bunions promised rain tomorrow (they are usually a day ahead of the weather).  As I drove home, I said to myself, “But you love running!”  I did not expect to love this afternoon’s run, but I also knew that if I put off running I would hate the next run even more.  So I made up my mind to just go for a short run.  Twenty minutes, I told myself.  I would not ask myself for more than twenty minutes.

I added to my ambition by putting a load of laundry into the washer before I left for my run.  This was shaping up to be an unusual Monday.

The plodding run, however, felt depressingly familiar.  Shouldn’t I be able to rock this by now?  Oh, did my legs hurt!  They had been hurting all day.  Why was I being this glutton for punishment?  Just keep going, I told myself.  You have to build back up.

I followed a different route from any of my usual runs, although it was on the same sidewalks I usually run on. I just followed them in a different order.  As I ran, I considered my 20 minute plan.  I had been running 31 minutes for my longest run the weekend before last, then ran 20 minute runs during the week.  I thought I should probably run at least 22 minutes, to increase my weekday run by the recommended 10 percent.

It was, I think, 15 minutes into the run that I realized my legs had stopped hurting so.  They weren’t loving me, but they felt… I guess neutral about what I was making them do.  My breathing was labored but not too bad.  I still wasn’t rocking the run, but I figured I could last 22 minutes.

Just to make the post shorter than the run (the critic in my head is carping that it has gone on too long anyways), I ran for 24 minutes.  The breeze picked up as I walked my cool-down, for which I was extremely grateful.  Now my legs are hurting again, but they will just have to hurt.  I may run again tomorrow.

 

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