I am pooped.
Annie, Mary Anne, and I ran an estimated 18k for 1 1/2 hours at Alabang early this morning. That’s the farthest I’ve gone ever. Close to the end of the run, my big toe started hurting (I cringed at the thought of another dead toenail), my calves felt sore, and I was slightly exhausted…but, boy oh boy, did it feel awesome.
Now I know what Rick, my new blogger friend, meant when he wrote “My legs stiffened up quickly after I stopped running, a good sign that they got a good workout. Just an overall pain and stiffness from hard effort, nothing indicating injury.”
I read Rick’s blog just last night and thought little of the post, but after this morning’s run, I completely got it (as I’m sure all of you other running masochists do!) Eureka, I thought!
Last summer, when I had started building up to a 10k, each training day challenged my body to its fullest. I would arrive home feeling like a truck ran over me yet my mind would be racing with excitement over the next run. Nowadays, I’ve been religiously running at an easy to medium intensity 4x a week but I knew something was missing. On good days, I would run 10k nonchalantly. On bad days, I wouldn’t wake up for a scheduled run and force myself to make up for it later on the treadmill. Either way I’d end the run feeling like I didn’t even workout at all. Yup, I was still running but I felt like my body was bored.
Now I know the reason: it wasn’t challenging for me anymore!
So, today I declare that, every Saturday henceforth, my runs shall be long, intense, heart-wrenching, leg-numbing, belly-shrinking, toenail-blackening workout days. I shall challenge myself to run longer every other week (as best friend Jeff Galloway advised) and welcome, if not conquer, sore muscles and aching feet. I shall focus more on my time, not my speed nor my distance. And, I should arrive home saying only these five words: “I’m pooped…but I’m happy.”
Bring on the pain, brother!