I’d love to give you something really eloquent about our little holiday, but I’m not really feeling very funny today so…yeah. Maybe tomorrow.
What I do have for you is yesterday’s 12 miler. Blah to the blah.
I feel obligated to disclose that I stopped and walked for about 15 minutes after finishing mile 11; “off the clock.” Then I started the timer again and ran the last .73, which explains the improved pace at the end there.
I was shooting for 14 miles. So. Not my best work.
I would blame the jet lag, but I actually felt fine. We got home at around 8:30 p.m. EST Saturday night, but it felt like 2:30 a.m., so we pretty much just went straight to bed. Slept all the way through until 5 a.m. when the incessant whining from our attention-starved cat compelled us to get up and play with the little bugger.
The reason for the less-than-stellar run was, again, my stupid feet. I went on an eight-day hiatus from running and my heels sill hurt the.whole.time. Granted, we did a lot of walking. A LOT. And also took the 542 stairs to the top of St. Petri Kirche in Hamburg. (No, I did not burst into flames when I stepped inside.)
But ye olde feets should have felt better, right?
I’m so sick of all this feet-hurting doody. I’ve been through three different types of running shoes in the last year and nothing has changed. If anything, it’s worse. Yes, this coincides with a dramatic increase in mileage, but so what? I haven’t been doing anything a million other people don’t do every day.
Did I mention I just happen to be reading Born to Run? It’s about the Tarahumara, an amazing tribe of super-runners living in the Copper Canyon of northern Mexico. The premise is that running shoes are ruining our natural ability to run astounding distances and causing an epidemic of owies. In a nutshell.
I’m not one to base my entire existence on the contents of just one book, but the guy makes a pretty convincing case.
Running in sandals? Embracing my natural ability? Listening to my feet instead of trying to fake them out? Sounds kind of beautiful, eh?
Hell, I’ve tried everything else. And I’m *this close* to cutting bunion holes in my running shoes anyway.
Okay. I’m not saying I’m going to go out and buy a pair of huaraches. But more cushioning and stability does not appear to be working out for me. Maybe it’s time to try less.