This past week was kind of nice though-not for my running partner who was injured, but for me who got a bit of a break. If I feel there is any weakness I can seize upon, I will, So, when she told me her ankles were bothering her-and not from a crazy hanging from the chandeliers kind of way-I knew I could get a shorter run in. When we arrived at said corner, I felt no guilt in throwing out the "maybe we should walk a little" idea. After all, she has weak ankles. That was a nice little reprieve.
Later that week, I was also forced to do something I despise. As if I did not think running was enough of a pain in the ass, foot, and knee as it is, I had to run on the treadmill-because of the injured partner. Running on a treadmill to me is like being in a padded cell without being crazy. It will drive you to it. Basically, you run your heart out...and for what? At the end of 45 minutes, I have gone nowhere, seen nothing, swallowed no bugs, or made a fake smile at any passerbys. Ugh...it is SO boring. Even so, I really enjoyed the fans they have on those thigamajiggys. It is kind of saying to you-"yes, running inside totally blows but here is some recirculated air to trick you into thinking there is a cool breeze." Nice.
Saturday was our "magic mile" day. I was informed by a friend there would be no real running this day. I say informed b/c I rely on others for details. Otherwise I would have to sift through all the training emails myself...dumping my responsibilites on others is something I am pretty good at so I try to be consistent. Anywho, she informed me we would simply be running ONE mile as a determination of speed and finish time for the race. So, I had a grand ole Friday night. After all I could run one mile with my ankles duct taped together at this point. There was drinks, desert, more drinks, lots of appetizers...yummmm.
Magic Mile morning comes...I am fucked. No holds barred-just plain fucked. Evidently, you run this Magic Mile after you completed three other miles and top it off with another mile-just for good measure. I draaaaaaaaaaged my ass. I mean, literally. My ass felt so heavy from merriment I really considered........joining the walking group. But, you can't really come back from that so I decided to man up. The walking group to me is like this-there are Doctors (the runners), and Dentists (run/walkers) and then Chiropracters (walkers). Sorry-just my own little hierarchy. Took it real slow the two miles...I shoggled (shuffle/jog-I think it should be a word) the whole way. But, when the Magic Mile time came, I did kick it into gear. In fact, I beat my normal lap time by almost 1.30 which was decent. There was a side effect though...it took me a solid half hour to be able to inhale, see without spots, and rid myself of my Quasimodo hump. So-no way am I running anywhere that fast again. Just wanted to show them I could do it. No reason except now it is documented and will be used to place me in the actual run in the correct group. I think I may be the first person in marathon history to be trampled alive.
