One Week (Exactly) Hence

Exactly one week has passed since Camp Pendleton's Hard Corps Marathon.  And eventhough I was pretty bad off (cramp-wise), I am way better off (recovery-wise) than my first marathon  (SD Rock N' Roll Marathon).  I haven't looked it up, but if memory serves me correctly, two weeks passed before I fully recovered from my first marathon.  This time, aside from cramping the second day, I felt pretty much recovered right away.

I have been preoccupied with life over the past week; it has tired me so.  Still, I set my alarm for a run this morning, though I would have rather slept in.  Actually, so much as been going on, that though I yearned to run during it all, when it comes right down to it, I would rather lay in bed and zone-out.  Zone-out ALL DAY LONG.

But I'm old enough to know what's better for me -- even if I do have a chorizo burrito dinner. : ) (Bad Girl!)

Goal this morning: Hills. Just 2 short weeks from now, I heading up Bulldog (at Malibu Creek Park), and having lost a lot of my hill training during physical therapy, I figured today was a good day for hills. I couldn't make the trails though (not enough time with the stuff going on 'round here), so I ran out my front door, first on a down hill to the highway, which I took down even further for a nice flat run on Del Obispo. I forgot to focus on form, and I forgot my mantra, which probably explains why I never really got out of my slump.

I'm not talking about a terrible slump. It's just that, the euphoria never hit. Then again, I kept the mileage on the low side.

After running the flat portion, I began my climb up Stonehill. Waving at a neighbor who seemed to be shocked at seeing me running up this hill at 7:30 in the morning, I turned left on Selva to run a steady climb, for a good two-thirds of the entire length of Selva. Reaching the high point of the city, I barely noticed the Pacific Ocean (it was a gray day), instead focusing on the music of my ipod.

My mood began to lift some when I finally reached the stairway leading down to The Strands (a small beach that's usually pretty empty). My mood didn't lift because it was empty, but because it was like meeting an old friend.  I love The Strands. 

Running on down to The Strands

The Rock Stacker at it again


Quick Stop at the cliffs to greet my friends

Not much hills to run on the sand.  I ran The Stands (there and back), Salt Creek and Monarch Beach, then began my ascent up the windy trail toward the highway.  I ran under the highway, then up the staircase to the apartments my husband and I lived in for nearly ten years (before the children).  From there I ran up Stonehill, a pretty good climb that I would have never dreamt of running twenty years ago when we lived there. 

The morning was still young when I arrived home, happy to see all my boys awake, eating breakfast and not yet raising havoc.   Miles logged this morning:  8.2