… or the obligatory end-of-year reflection post.
My year started off on the wrong foot–literally–when my left calf injury prevented me from running the Rogue 10K. And things got worse at the 3M half when my four-week injury hiatus prevented me from training properly, leading to a personal-worst performance.
But things slowly started improving as the spring marched on. My races were pretty slow but injury-free; yet in an odd twist, I managed to win my
first only age group award in a small 5K in March.
I spent the summer working on strength and slowly rebuilding my long-run mileage. Every Wednesday morning I got up before the crack of dawn for a core-class-on-steroids, then ran a couple of miles with S. She pushed me distance-wise all summer too. And it paid off when I came within 30 seconds of my (fairly ambitious) Army Ten-Miler goal. But because I seem to insist on doing things the hard way, my hip started bothering me again after the hilly Run for the Water, and that slowed me down a little in November and December.
Despite this minor-ish setback, I forged ahead with my half-marathon training. Track workouts, hill repeats, and continued strength exercises have helped me stay focused on my January goals.
With about four weeks until 3M 2016 (aka The Redemption), I’m not as confident as I was in October, but now that my leg is mostly recovered I think I have a decent shot of performing well. No matter what, though, my training has far exceeded last year’s, so I should not have a repeat of that injury-plagued disaster.
Many people think of the new year as a time to start fresh, make resolutions, re-evaluate their lives, stuff like that. More power to you, if that’s your thing.
But I also think the change of the calendar doesn’t necessarily promise endings and beginnings. Life is what you make of it–make it a happy middle.
To the place where the sidewalk ends.