Today’s ten-mile run had every reason to suck.
It was raining and 37* when I left the house. My car taunted me by playing “Walking on Sunshine” on the radio. My hip (I’m going to keep calling it that for convenience) still feels funky. I’ve nursed a bad-run hangover since Thursday’s turkey trot. And the route was one I don’t particularly like. Remember that cold, solo 14-mile run where I got caught in a downpour the last three miles and two cars stopped to see if I wanted a ride? Same route. Same weather. So I was not in a great frame of mind when we headed out.
The rain had stopped, leaving us with only a little drizzle. I wasn’t confident it would hold off for our whole run, but it was a start. Then, after the first mile, I realized that my hip felt … less bad. I’d been given the okay to try ten miles as long as I never felt sharp or increasing pain. It started out as more of a dull ache and pretty much stayed that way.
At some point it occurred to me that my lack of energy on Thursday could have been related to my having blood taken on Wednesday morning. I don’t know how much they took (I can barely stay conscious, let alone watch how much they’re siphoning from me) but it would make sense. I mean, I was fine on Tuesday night and drained (haha) on Thursday. I ran slowly this morning, but it felt better than my last run.
Just short of three miles, we made the turn to follow the sidewalk path alongside the highway. We’d gone approximately twelve steps when we stopped to zip up jackets and put on gloves. The highway formed a wind tunnel, sending 37-degree gusts into our faces. Ugh.
At the bottom of the hill we crossed under the highway and continued along the sidewalk. Still into the wind.
At the next intersection, we turned left. Last time I ran this route, the sidewalk continued around the corner and along this road, well, for miles. But some unfinished construction had chewed up the sidewalk and shoulder, leaving us to run in the road along a relatively blind curve, for 100 yards or so.
We jumped back off the road as soon as the sidewalk resumed, and I tried to block out the view in front of me. This route runs straight along this road for several more miles, and although we weren’t going that far, I still hate the monotony of this section.
When we reached five miles, we stopped for a breather. I looked for my inhaler and could not find it. I’d remembered taking it out of my backpack and I thought I’d put it in my jacket pocket, but it was not there now. Gah. I’d either left it on the shelf back at Rogue or I’d lost yet another one while running. Fortunately I wasn’t desperately in need of it at that moment–it just might have helped me breathe better in the cold.
I remember starting my watch again as we began the return trip, but about a quarter-mile later it buzzed, alerting me it was about to go into power saver mode. Which means I had not in fact restarted it. That’s what I get for trying to work it through my jacket and shirt sleeve, I guess.
Back across the no-sidewalk section, through the wind tunnel, up the hill, then a hard-earned water stop. We were kind of slow coming up the last hill back to Rogue, but other than the typical ten-mile-run soreness and a minor ache from my hip, I felt okay. Ready to get out of the windy cold, but okay.
All things considered, it was quite a bit less unpleasant than I had expected. Now I can justify sitting on the couch, watching football and eating Thanksgiving leftovers.