Welp, here’s what yesterday’s run looked like.
Not a PR, but not a total wreck either.
I felt compelled (or shamed) to do a long run Sunday and just plucked a number out of thin air: ehhhh…eight? Eight, it is.
Not bad considering I’ve only gone running four other times all month, and those were all poopy little threes and fours. So my expectations were pretty low.
My pace was pretty schizo. I sort of forgot how to do that. But now that that first ugly run is out of the way, I can – with any luck – start feeling normal again.
I looked back at the other 8(ish) milers I’ve done recently and yesterday’s was pretty much on par (not counting that ridicuballs awesome 8.77 the week before the marathon. Gosh, that was fun).
Another first this week (and maybe last): ice bath.
::dun dun duuuuun::
I was doing some reading the other night (which often leads to experimentation, self-diagnosis and sometimes liberalism), and came across a piece on the benefits of ice bathing. Nothing in this article was new to me; nevertheless, it inspired me to give it one more shot.
I got past the first few excruciating seconds and then sat there, shivering and holding onto the sides of the tub for dear life. I didn’t put actual CUBES of ice in the water by the way, but it was definitely cold. 50s if I had to guess. I sat in there for about 10 minutes– just until my legs were good and numb.
Blah squared. My legs are still sore this morning. If I’m to keep doing this, I’m going to have to seem some kind of payoff other than intangibles. It can flush all the harmful metabolic debris out of my muscles it wants, but if it doesn’t feel good, I don’t see myself making a habit of it. Too much hassle.
And I’m not saying that apologetically. I don’t feel obligated to like things that other people like. (In fact, usually that is what compels me to despise them). I’m just the type of person who will not knock something before I try it (the exception to that rule is, of course, Twilight).
I’m feisty this morning, aren’t I? Four-day weekends’ll do that.