Cursed

The highs and lows of running are drastic. I recently wrote about finding a new level of enjoyment with running only to hit my long run Friday and find a whole new low.

A week of pushing myself physically with training included a day of skiing and increased weight on my strength training which mixed together into a special potion of hell for my 12 mile run. Skiing seems to strain my calves in a way I can not explain, but imagine a constant charlie horse in each leg, now imagine running on those legs.

I would like to also interject here to talk about how much I rely on an ipod to keep me motivated. So of course as this was a run from hell, I had the chilling realization that my ipod was full of old NPR stories as I started the run. Most of you know my long time history of kill-me-now NPR and know that while I am getting better at listening to it, but re-listening to the same stories sounds like an instant stroke. 

As I hit the road, determined to run the pain out of my calves and enjoy the sounds of nature, I realized this would be a challenge. As the pain increased in my legs and I was free to simply listen to my thoughts, I looked at the beautiful river and imagined jumping in it, jamming my foot in the rocks and allowing the cold rippling waves to wash over my head as I drown. It was such a peaceful place. As I continued to the 6 mile turn around point and the pain radiated up into my back, I imagined that one of the cars passing by would have a distracted driver and the car would smash into me causing my body to fly weightless through the air landing with my head smashing into a rock creating absolute silence. At mile 8 the pain in my calves was almost unbearable and was doubled by intense hamstring tension. I looked to the sky for a bird to swoop down and attack me like a scene from "The Birds" but no such luck. Instead a storm blew in and gusts of wind spiked so hard that it was as if I was running in place, accented by mean hard drops of rain. I was in hell.

Obviously I had pissed off the Running Gods and was in the throws of a super curse.

Most people would see that this was impossible and simply stop. But not me, no no, I needed to finish what I set out to accomplish today. So with a full furious scream of "F*@k!!!!" into the wind, I pushed my feet forward and completed the 12 miles.

So did I feel proud of myself? Did I cheer? No. I told my husband that I officially quit. I couldn't even bring myself to blog that day, afraid I would simply say "no one start running, it sucks and is stupid". But as is the strangeness of running and the secret that keeps you coming back, a rare gift landed in my lap. We had left out a week in the training and I suddenly could afford to take a lighter week! It was as if the Running Gods had seen my struggle and deemed that they had brutalized me enough. I swear a gold light beamed down through the sky at that very moment onto my running log.

2 glasses of wine later, I was registering for the ABQ half marathon and talking to my husband about strategies to run it fast.

I am pretty sure that I should be committed to an institution.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com