Another Season

If I lived in my ideal world, this post would be about getting a PR in the Smithfield Sprint or the Monument Ave. 10K, both of which took place yesterday. In a less perfect world, I at least could say I participated. But, no, I wasn't at either event. I was home, wondering whether the strange, sort of rotten smell permeating my laundry room, or something else, has caused my laryngitis/bronchitis, and comtemplating why an injury nearly five months ago has me still sidelined. I think I should be "all better" by now, and the fact that I'm not has routed my mojo like KY took out WF in round 2 of this year's NCAA tournament (90 to 60, for the non-b'ballers). I don't want to be the stereotypical old person who constantly complains about her ailments, but they seem to have taken over my life. A new season is here, though, so it's time to get out of my rocker and tri.

Two Steps, One Step

My return to running has been at tortoise-speed. Since mid-February, using the walk-run method, I’ve logged a mile, or a mile and a half, once a week. Even by my standards, the pace has been slow, but the point was simply to get accustomed to running again. Each week I’ve tried to run more and walk less, with varying success. Last Saturday, however, I decided I would attempt to run the first half-mile (five blocks) before I interspersed any walking. Surprised by the respectable pace at which I did the half-mile, I decided to try running the second half-mile, too. After three more blocks, I was starting to slow down, but I could see the stop sign ahead that marked my “finish line,” and I was determined to keep running. I got there, and only 20 seconds later than I would have if I’d stayed on my original pace. I doubt I could have run much farther, but I was elated to have that mile behind me. I had plans of two miles for the following Saturday.

Until Thursday. While doing split squats at strength training on Thursday night, my left foot/ankle started to hurt. I don’t know what I did to it, and it seemed better this morning, but I decided to forego cycling and running for RICE-ing. Hopefully, I won’t be “defeeted” for long.