I’m pretty sure I broke in the new trail shoes today:
My running buddy Kate and I did a leisurely 5 miles and then congratulated each other for being total badasses by running in sub-freezing temps through mud, ice and snow.
It really was tranquil out there today. Really cold, but still. There were tons of deer out along the trails who nodded hello to us as we ran by. Kate said she wants to submit ECP as a Rave Run to Runner’s World. Its just beautiful.
I didn’t take this beautiful picture – I found it online and it is near the 56th Street entrance to the park. Click that puppy to see the rest of the album.
The new shoes felt GOOD. They gripped. The righty felt a little looser in the heel than the lefty but I think that was due to faulty lacing on my part. It wouldn’t have bothered me except that one’s my stupid ankle. After putting on some dry warm clothes I immediate velcroed my ice wrap around it and I currently have it propped up on my computer tower under the desk. (I swear it was made for that.)
I know it is better for me in the long run when I ice it, but damn, it HURTS. No, it is excruciating. (I should probably disclaim that I employ a very broad, all-encompassing definition of excruciating, which can include anything from a paper cut to a severed limb. Don’t you judge me.) I’m told its normal, and I never ice it for more than 20 minutes, but it just sucks that something that makes you feel better should first hurt.
In the spirit of winter and snow, I’m enjoying a Rogue Yellow Snow IPA.
And now that my ankle is sufficiently frozen, its time to go investigate what’s lurking in the fridge for dinner.