Sunday was to have been my make up day. It wasn’t. I needed to complete 10 miles and an hour and a half of Yoga X. All through that day I was sore, and my start time kept being pushed back. Eventually it got to a point where I could not safely run the route since it would get too dark and there are no street lights. I decided to allow my body the time to heal and avoid being hit by a car. I also figured Yoga should help stretch the muscles and help the recovery process.
I had not had a break from running for weeks. I needed it. The yoga was still no break but it felt great in a weird, exhausting kind of way. Of course this blog is not about the miles I didn’t log, but the ones I did.
Fast forwarding to Tuesday. I had a six mile run scheduled. The perfect excuse not to run was there - a cold downpour. I could easily have said, “it isn’t safe” or “I don’t want to get sick before Thanksgiving.” But I had already run in a sleet storm, so rain couldn’t stop me. It wasn’t cold enough to use my waterproof jacket, just the resistant jacket. Enough stalling, it was time to hit the road. During my run I found that the harder the rain came down, the faster I ran. This is what I ran for, the insanity of it all. Dancing between the rain drops, avoiding the lake-like puddles, and leaping over the waterfall driveways was the world I wanted to explore over and over.
When the rains slowed down, the wind picked up. The cold drained my muscles and sapped my strength. My pace suffered, and in crept doubts. I found myself wishing for the bad weather to intensify. The rains came and went, and came back again. By the time I got home, I was soaked from head to toe.
Why do I enjoy the insane conditions more than a relaxing fall run? It is a litmus test of my own sanity.
Next Workout: P90X (Disc 09 & Disc 12) (Saturday)
Next Race: Burlington Race for the Hungry 5K