Where The Hell I’ve Been

I am still here.  But where the hell have I been?  That is a question I had to ask myself.  My answer:  I took a break.  And that’s the story I’m sticking with .  Not a real break, else I self-loathe into oblivion.  No, I took a mini-break, one filled with more rest that I usually allow myself.  And I’m glad I did.  Well, not really.  But I’m forcing myself to be glad.  I’m forcing myself to be content with what is.   

To recap:  I took some days off after The Hustle.  Four to be exact.  I figured that the rest would do me good, and that I’d be ready to run up a mountain. 

Note to self:  I cannot skip the recovery run. 

I should have taken my post race blues as a hint to at least hit the dirt for a few miles before attempting to run up a mountain. 

But, I didn’t.

I first set my feet to the dirt the Thursday after The Hustle where I met two girlfriends, Kelly and Sheila, in Silverado Canyon, about 3.5 miles past the Maple Springs trailhead.  I found the climb up tiring.  Quite slow.  And hot.

At about 4.25 miles, when we FINALLY reached “Four Corners,”  the ladies said that they wanted to put in another .75 miles for an even 5 miles.  I gladly stayed behind for some views.

I didn’t begin searching for my pals until a half hour had passed.  Unfortunately, I didn’t listen well (lesson:  listen!) when they told me which direction they would be travelling.  I searched to no avail, couldn’t even find their footprints.  Approaching an hour since our departure from each other, I began to REALLY worry.  I know these ladies.  I know their behavior on trails, and know that they don’t willy-nilly go off unexpectedly.  I felt for sure something had happened.  I thought to myself, “This is why I run alone!!”

And so, I ran back to “Four Corners,” from my search and in a calm panic, I walked around for a spot with cell-phone connection, and found enough bars to phone my husband.  He assured me that I probably mis-understood their intentions, that I should wait for them more, or slowly make my way back down the mountain.  As we spoke, I saw one of my friends making her way from a direction that I didn’t expect. 

The ladies had no idea how much time had passed and were profusely sorry for worrying me.  All was well that ended well.   I suppose I over-reacted in my worry. 

The next day, Friday (July 24), I took it easy with some ab work on my living room floor, as well as, upper body weights and burpees (both of which I hate). 

That first Saturday of my 2 week sabbatical (7/26/14), I spent some time at an air-conditioned gym about a mile away from my home with 5.23 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 4.34 miles on the adaptive motion trainer (AMT).  Afterward, I lay myself down on a bench for 400 crunches.  I finished off the gym session with fifty suspended leg lifts.  Back at home I managed ten burpees.  Yes, managed.

Sunday (7/27) was a day of rest with a mere ten burpees on the backyard lawn.  Really.  That’s all I could manage.

Monday, I just couldn’t bear getting out on the road, or the trails yet.  I was just too morose.  Instead, I found myself in an air-conditioned gym once again, where I plowed through 5.26 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 2.4 miles on the AMT.  I finished off this sabbatical gym session with upper and lower body weights, and then finally a mere 11 burpees at home on the backyard lawn. 

Tuesday (7/29), I managed to get in a little run by running out my front door during one hot and humid afternoon before my last teaching day this summer.  I ran alongside the beach, past the crowded campgrounds and to the southern city limits.  When the sidewalk ended, I turned around and ran back home.

Thursday (7/31), I made this sabbatical official with another trip to my air-conditioned gym. After trying four different elliptical crossramps, I found one in working condition and put in 5.14 miles.  I ended the session with a weight session – upper and lower body.

Friday, (8/1) was a true day of rest.  I spent this day of rest by dragging my three boys boys down to the corner where we caught a bus to Crystal Cove in Newport Coast.  It was a party bus of sort, and we were amused by the raucousness of its young passengers.  (One young lad was even kicked off the bus for smoking an E-cigarette).  After disembarking we hiked a bit inland (where I often run trails), then we turned back toward the beach for a trip beneath the highway to the sandy beaches there.   And we camped out here for a few hours before trekking back up to the highway, and caught another bus, and then another to be dropped off near home:

Saturday (8/2), when I was feeling that I had a long enough sabbatical, but didn’t mind extending it some, I found myself once again in my air-conditioned gym where I pushed through 5.33 miles on the elliptical crossramp, 5.12 miles on the AMT, a good session of upper and lower body weights, 350 crunches on the bench and 50 suspended leg lifts.

And then finally, on Sunday, today (8/3) I pursued my last day of this sabbatical with another session in my air-conditioned gym.  Miles recorded:  5.23 on the elliptical crossramp and 2.41 miles on the AMT.

Well then, there -- Sabbatical ended.

This is where the hell I’ve been.  I’m happy about it (and I’m sticking with that story )

Okay, then . . . am I crazy?

9 Days

It’s been nine days since I’ve hit the trails.  For nine days, trails were the furthest thing from my mind.  I told everyone I was recovering, when actually, I was kind of sulking.  I didn’t stretch.  I didn’t roll.  I didn’t cross-train.  I knew that I would run trails again.  I just needed time.  I needed to take inventory.  I needed nine days. 

This morning, it was time.  I set out for my “short” run to Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  I felt better than I thought that I would.  But then, my calves screamed with pain as I ran up that first steep climb, Cholla Trail.  I stopped once to stretch my calves.  I focused on loosening up for the rest of the climb.  When I reached West Ridge, I took several minutes to stretch out my calves once again.

The remainder of my run was tranquil.  Most of the time I sunk into nothingness – just running trails, and nothing more.  That’s the best.

Twin Peaks Recovery

Recovery has been slow.  But that’s okay because I let so many things slide lately, things with deadlines.  I used this week’s down time to get caught up working. 

The first 3 days after Twin Peaks, I woke with extremely stiff legs.  My feet feel good.  I haven’t done much of anything to speed recovery, which is probably why it’s been slow.  How do I speed up recovery?  I foam roll, do floor exercises, stretch those hips and IT band.  All I’ve really done is foam roll – and just once or twice.

Today, I got in my recovery run.  I started late on the trails this morning since I needed to get the boys off to school.  The weather was delightfully cool with a slight breeze.  I took off with a pack because I wasn’t quite sure how far I’d run.  I don’t know what I was thinking, but I decided to add Car Wreck Trail UP HILL (see the steep portion in the elevation profile below.)  It kicked my butt all over the place.

Turns out that I didn’t need the pack, because I put in just under 8 miles.  A handheld would have done with this weather.  Eight miles is good.  I’m certainly not complaining.  I didn’t realize how much that big uphill would shove me around. 

I also forgot to tape my arches.  Turns out, I didn’t feel discomfort at all.  The best thing about today’s run was that it was PRESSURE FREE.  Yes, gloriously pressure free.  I simply got to enjoy.  No worrying about my performance and how I’m going to in Twin Peaks.  That story has now been written. 

Running down into Wood Canyon:

Descending a staircase on Wood Creek Trail:

Coyote Run (where the fairies fly freely):

Running Oak Grove Trail:

Entering Car Wreck:

Car Wreck Trail:  Going up

Greetings from Top of the World:

This morning’s profile:

Recovery–How It Went

Recovery was a strange, strange road this time around.  But then again, I never recovered from anything like this.  Sunday, the day Nanny Goat ended I drove home and went straight to bed (knee braces still on.)  I ached from fatigue.  A couple hours later, my husband drew a bath, woke me and insisted that I soak. 

Basically, Sunday and Monday, I slept and ate.  My feet only slightly swollen were still red.  My arms, the tops of my feet, all of my legs and my scalp itched.  That darn near drove me crazy.  I also felt stiff, but amazingly I experienced absolutely no pain while foam rolling.  My knees ceased causing pain by Monday.  And by Monday I could walk around just like normal – even up and down steps.  I felt so good Monday, I thought that I might run on Tuesday.

When Tuesday rolled around however, I still had sleeping to do.  I decided to reel in the calories however.  It was time.  After I got the boys off to school, I slept pretty much until noon when it was time to pick-up the boys (early-out day) and then get ready for work. 

Even with this napping, pretty much around the clock, I went to bed at a decent hour and slept all the way through the night, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. 

Today, Wednesday, I felt great!  Great enough for a run.  And so after getting the boys off to school, I drove home to do some chores and dressed for a trail run.  I was astonished how loose my shoes felt, how in fact comfy they felt.  If I didn’t know better, I was off to run in slippers!  I’m surprised how those 67 miles got me used to dirty, grimy, sweaty clothing and swollen feet shoved into my shoes.  I drove off to Wood Canyon DOWN-RIGHT GIDDY.

I found today’s run to Top of the World, ridiculously easy.  It was as if I had been wearing weights on my back until today.  When suddenly freed from the weights, I practically floated along the trails.  I found myself dancing to the tunes on my ipod as I ran along the ridge.  Sure I broke a sweat, quite a sweat running to Top of the World.  But it was a lovely, clean, fresh sweat.  LOL.  Yes, I’m acting silly.  Truth is, I feel like Nanny Goat changed my run.  It changed my perspective on distance.  It changed my perspective on my current abilities and gave me confidence that I can train for Twin Peaks. 

When I returned home, I drew a bath, and did ab work on the living room floor.  Just prepping – next week, the training begins. 

Bring it on. (With a smile of course!) :)

My Run Today:

Entering into Wood Canyon (wearing my Nanny Goat shirt):

A Detour off Westridge for a little more elevation:

Comfy feet

View of Pacific Ocean from another Westridge Detour:

I found my ex-marine trail friend (A-Rod) on Park Avenue Nature Trail – we’ve been passing by each other on the trails for about three years now (I have him to thank for nasal breathing):

Top of the World:

Flowers at Top of the World that remind me of fried eggs:

Running back, along WestRidge with a view of Saddleback Mountains:

The Elevation Profile (which Twin Peaks will dwarf)

Recovery

Recovery seems a blur now.  I couldn’t sleep much at all the first night after the SJT “50K.”  Every inch of my body ached.  My arms especially ached, so too did my calves.  A simple touch hurt.  I walked down stair steps sideways to avoid aches. 

I slept better the next day.  Monday after dropping the boys off at school, I slept until 1PM.  Every chance I got, I slept.  Every time I laid my head down my mind went through the race.  I found that pleasurable.  And then when I slept I dreamt strange or disturbing dreams, dreams of my life passing before my eyes, dreams of family members who have died, or dreams of running, running, never-ending-running. 

I didn’t even think of actually running those first two days after the race. Though I did some upper body weights, some hip and glute strengthening, a little foam rolling, even a bit of ab work. I kept wondering why my elbow hurt, then I’d remember the fall on that boulder. 

Tuesday, was EMO day – emotional wreck day.  My hubby said, “Recovery!”  Perhaps.  I went to work Tuesday so emotionally wrought it took great strength to put on “the act.”  I managed.  Then I got the call to sub a night class.  I took on that job with my eyes aching from sobbing.  Still, I was able to put on “the act.”  And glasses, they do wonders for sobbing eyes.  When I finally arrived home that night I went straight to bed.  (Does anyone else go through this emotional day after a huge race?) 

Today, Wednesday, was the day.  After dropping our boys off at school, I had the morning all to myself.  I set off for “sixish” “easyish” trail miles at about 10AM wearing my latest race t-shirt.  On my drive there, a bird (yes a bird!) flew into my windshield.  And the creature kind of flopped through the air toward the ground.  I thought I had probably killed it – I was travelling about 40 mph and add that to the bird’s momentum – I don’t know how it could survive.  I felt terrible. 

I continued on driving, determined to get in a trail run.  I wasn’t going to let a poor dead bird deter me.  And I don’t believe in omens.  I felt that if I didn’t get a run in today, I just may slide into a slump. 

This is how it went:  The weather was warm, almost hot as I ran down into Wood Canyon.  My shoes felt too tight.  I stopped twice to loosen the laces, questioning why my shoes would feel so odd.  I also felt sluggish, as if my legs weighed 50 pounds a piece.  I thought to myself, “What the heck am I doing?  Maybe I don’t want to be an endurance / trail runner anymore!”  (Sound familiar?  Does to me.  I go through this after almost every tough race.)

Then I hit the trails to the loud sound of a rattlesnake’s rattler.  I only caught a glimpse of its tail end.  I stood there on the trail with a male and female mountain biker, all of us trying to get a better glimpse, the guy attempting to get it to do some more rattling by beating the brush.  Then we started exchanging rattlesnake stories, and afterward, I set off, my legs still heavy, but my heart lightened by the trail.

I headed up Cholla Trail sweating profusely, not only because of the heat, but because of my recovery.   I always sweat much more than usual on my recovery runs.  I ran to the top of Cholla not thinking, but more feeling that I did want to be a trail runner after all.

A Quick Pose on West Ridge Trail (top of Cholla Trail):

Running Park Avenue Nature Trail for some Extra Elevation:

I made the trip up only slightly slower than usual.  I also spotted another snake in the distance crossing the trail.  Picking up my pace so that I could get a closer look, it slithered into the brush.  I got a close enough look at its tail end to know that it was not a rattlesnake.  Stopping for a minute, I searched the brush so that I could i.d. the critter.   It was a lovely, nice size garter snake.  I’d say at least 4 feet long.

I took the side trails for additional elevation.  Why?  Because I’m crazy.  Also, so that I could see the Pacific Ocean sooner than later.  But I couldn’t see the ocean at all.  Instead, I saw this – a lovely, “pillowy” soft-looking layer of clouds covering all that water:

Top of the World:

I ran back at a faster pace.  And I didn’t think about anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  I did hear the sound of shuffling feet behind me and I picked up my speed some on the uphills so that I could leave that runner behind me.  I wasn’t in the mood to let a runner pass me.  Usually I don’t have a choice.  But today, I could tell from the sound of his feet that the runner was tired, so I kicked it in (I know he was a “he,” because I peeked a glimpse behind me when I turned to run down Cholla). 

I didn’t get much mileage in today.  I didn’t get much training in today.  But I got some trails in today.  And that was lovely. 

I don’t even know how to do a recovery run. How long do you wait before running? How many miles do you run?    Ahh.  Who cares.  I got out today, finally, and ran trails again.  That’s really all that matters for this recovery run..

Recovery

When I returned from Saturday’s marathon I was on a natural high, mainly because I couldn’t believe how much I accomplished my goal.  The remainder of the day, I felt sick, nauseated, achy.  My eyes ached from all the salt in my sweat that dripped into them.  I bedded early. 

Sunday, I barely remember.  I remember waking stiff all over, and also, nearly falling asleep several times during church – not that the service was boring.  I was just dang tired.  I napped Sunday afternoon, then bedded early again.  Basically, Sunday was a blur.  I had to ask my husband if it had rained on Sunday because I had planned on painting the yard gates.  By Monday, they weren’t painted.  I suppose I may have lost a few brain cells on Saturday.

Monday, I saved my running legs and played gym rat.  I did a lot of stretching, foam rolling, ab work, weights and even 65 minutes on the elliptical crossramp.  Mainly, my right IT band was sore, and my quads needed lots of rolling.  The 2.5 hour workout seemed to “iron-out” this.  But boy was I sleepy!!  AGAIN.  That afternoon I napped a few hours. Then I tucked into bed about 8:30 PM.  Needless to say, this constant sleeping on my part annoyed some in my family (I won’t say who, but there was more than one culprit!)

I felt my recovery was going along beautifully.  I think the sleeping helped.  I couldn’t help but reflect on this marathon (quickly counting, I believe, my 6th) compared to my first marathon on 5/31/2009.  (San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon – I actually found my blog for it, buried in Myspace.)  From my recollection, after my first marathon I couldn’t run well for weeks.  And when I did finally put in five plus miles, I had a difficult time breathing evenly.  Recovery was tough then.

That wasn’t the case this time.  I woke this morning FULLY refreshed.  I felt elated that I had time and energy to run on the third day after the Saddleback Trail Marathon.  And so, after all my “wifely/motherly” duties, and before my afternoon job, I headed out to Aliso/Wood Canyons for a carefree run to the Top of the World. 

I ran up Cholla Trail, a short ascent which seemed like a bump in the road compared to Holy Jim.  Then I ran along the rolling hills of West Ridge, smiling wide at probably a dozen mountain bikers who made their way along the trail.

 Top of Cholla Trail

My usual post marathon depression either hasn’t hit or didn’t hit after Saddleback.  It usually hits within 2 days.  Thing is, I’m so dang happy that I made such an improvement, it might not hit this time.  I’ll tell what did hit almost immediately:  a melancholy feeling over the fact that this journey had ended.  I had been working so long and so hard for this one race.  And now it is over.  I realize though,  there are lots of life journeys, and that while in the midst of the journeys I’m in right now, new ones are beginning all the time, and another running journey is just around the corner.

Still, I found myself day dreaming frequently about Saturday’s marathon on today’s run.  I allowed it somewhat.  Then I’d force myself out of the past and grudgingly enter again into the present.

Yes, I’m a bit odd.

Day dreaming about Saddleback Trail Marathon – why look there’s Saddleback in the distance right there!

Acting silly at Top of the World (with SADDLEBACK mountains in background):

I didn’t run the out-and-back as planned this morning.  Why?  Because I did not want to stop running.  Instead, I headed down Mathis thinking I might run into Jeff (he often choses Mathis).  My friend Jeff by the way, also greatly bettered his time in the Saddleback Marathon. 

Instead, Mathis was empty.  But empty is lovely too.  The skies were blue with wispy clouds, the weather cool enough that I didn’t regret long sleeves.  From there I ran over the plank bridge that crosses Wood Creek and ran a shady, cool Wood Canyon back to the truck for a total of 7.70 miles on this “recovery” run. 

Fall blooms along the ridge:

Wood Canyon, where the color green is now “in”:

Today’s profile:

Cave Rock

Tuesday I added an event to my calendar, and when I do that, it’s like a domino affect.  Everything had to shift.  And so, I couldn’t run Tuesday (that got moved to Wednesday).  Instead I went to the gym Tuesday, put in an hour plus on the elliptical, stretched, did weights (but no arms!), abs, foam rolled and felt absolutely great afterward.    

But then the night came.  Night time is pretty miserable for me with this piriformis glute issue going on.  It’s when I sit or worst yet, when I lay down to sleep that the pain comes.  (According to my research, it’s because I “shorten” this muscle with my sleep position).  After tossing and turning all night, I woke this morning earlier that usual – I just couldn’t stand the pain of laying down.  After standing for a while, the pain gradually subsided.  I foam rolled, I stretched, and I dropped all three sons off at school, one by one.

On the spur of the moment I decided on a relatively flat run, a 9 mile out-and-back through Wood Canyon at Aliso/Wood Canyons Park.  I packed on the water (I do that nowadays, bring in more water than necessary) and headed down Aliso Canyon, my glutes causing a great deal of pain. 

I should note that my running about 10 miles today was a bit of an inconvenience on the family, having only one car.  This is partly why I chose a flatish :) run.  I figured I’d get the car back home sooner.  Besides that, I consider myself still in recovery from my last marathon.  A “flat” run, I thought, was a good idea, a chance for my body to rest.

 Sightings Board / Notice upper left corner, lost computer!  Does anyone else find this a bit odd? 

Well, I about had it by the end of Aliso Creek Trail.  Now, I’m not one to give up easily (good and bad point about me), so I kept it going and turned onto Wood Canyon Trail.  I stopped at the bench there, got up on the table and stretched the suspect muscles, took two ibuprofen. 

I ran only a half mile more before I finally gave up and turned around.  What the heck?  Listen to my body, right?  I phoned my husband to tell him that he could have the car because I was coming back.  I refrained from crying.  I wanted to cry.  But I was kinda feeling that my spouse wasn’t going to think kindly about me crying because I couldn’t run.  I’ve cried too many times over not being able to run.  And I’ve also cried tears of joy for being able to run.  I’d guess it’s getting old.

The Silver Lining : )

On the way back down Wood Canyon Trail, moping, trying so hard not to go to that pitty party, I passed a trail that I have passed over and over again, Cave Rock Trail.  It is one of the very few trails that I have not explored in this park.  I thought it was just this tiny thing that went around the giant boulder with a small cave in it that you can see from Wood Canyon Trail.

Boy was I wrong.  As soon as I ventured in, I knew that this was my silver lining today.  First off, it was a shady single track that quickly began to ascend (oddly, my glute issue disappears on the uphills).  There were wooden steps built into the slopes, moss alongside the trail, even some acorns to gather for my youngest son.  The trail winded up onto that giant boulder with the cave that I could always see from Wood Canyon.  I ran on top of it for an awesome view of Wood Canyon Trail.  The rock never looked that high from the ground.  I was amazed.

I took this trail (about 1/4 mile) until it dumped me back onto Wood Canyon, and though my glutes still ached (only slightly), I ran it all the way into the ranger station and past for a run totaling 4.5 miles. 

Now, if I didn’t have this glute problem, I may have never ventured onto this trail.  How sad would that have been?  Pretty sad.

One of the very few trails at Aliso/Woods I have not wandered

My Kind of Trail!!

 

Admiring View on the Top Backside of Cave Rock

More of Cave Rock Trail, Naturally Landscaped with Stepping Stones

 

Lots of Rock on Cave Rock (all part of the same rock)

 

Heading off of Cave Rock, back toward Wood Canyon Trail

My Days of Rest

“I am my own affliction; I am own disease”

Switchfoot

Saturday, August 14 I proclaimed to myself and my running friends that I would not run again until Bulldog.  I would rest.  I kept my word.  I have not run, not even from the car to the front door. 

This is how I’ve spent my days of “rest” (besides reading, cleaning, and sleeping extra hours):

Sunday, I slept in : ), swam 1,500 yards and did  strength training (weights & core).

Monday, 65 minutes on the elliptical (5.22 miles) and core work on the floor at home in front of my favorite soap opera.  To bed early (8:30!)

Tuesday, slept in again : ) 65 minutes on the elliptical (5.68 miles) and more strength training (weights, but no extra weight or repetitions than usual).

Wednesday, woke up early, Physical Therapy 8 AM, then to the gym for 1,500 yards of swimming, then again core work on the floor at home watching my soap.

Thursday, woke even earlier, Physical Therapy 7:30 AM, then to the gym for strength training (weights & core) plus 1,500 yards of swimming.  Napped in the late afternoon.

Friday, no workout whatsoever intended.  Sleep in and keep a cool head, pick up a few things from the store and pack.  I won’t even do a plank!

NOW, there may be friends and readers who will give me that funny look, giggle and accuse me of not resting these past days.  But believe me, this has been a rest.  In the past five days, I’ve probably slept an extra ten hours.  No cardio activity lasted more than 65 minutes, and the strength training, I didn’t “up” anything.

As a result, I feel rested.  My toe isn’t pretty, but it’s practically healed.  No pain at all, no limp.  My hip is also doing much, much better.  Though my pelvis continues to rotate forward.  Anything will do it.  Sleeping does it!  But I am getting better and stronger at realigning my pelvis back into position.  So, if you see me out there in Calabasas laying in the dirt, pulling and pushing my right leg, I am not hurt, I am just preventing pain and injury by realigning.

There you have it – my days of rest.  Now I am a bundle of nerves, hoping that I can complete the upcoming race, my first ultra.  My goals:  (besides completing), no falling, no injuries, handling the cramps when the arrive, keeping a smile on my face and a positive attitude, and most of all enjoying the beauty and relative solitude.  Because it really is beautiful out there at Malibu Creek State Park.

So long til then.

In Retrospect

With a few days to look back, I believe my biggest mistake, a pretty major one that nearly took me down in the Hard Corps Marathon, is that I didn't pack the Nuun tablets. That is what I normally run with to replace electrolytes. Instead, I switched sports drinks and went with what the aid stations supplied (which was Gatorade). Secondly, (and from now on!) I must bring along salt packets -- that sucking pretzels thing has got to go. Salt is definately my problem; I sweat salt. Every bit of me was crusted with salt after Saturday's race -- my clothing, arms, legs, face. Sunday, by the way, my hands and feet were cramping. I neglected to continue replacing those electrolytes after the race.

It's all about learning lessons. My runs, especially races always are. And I like that.

I ran pretty quickly after the marathon -- just waited one day to hit the ground. But what I did differently this time (compared to my first marathon), was to get out for small, yet frequent recovery runs.

Monday, I dropped my car off in the shop and ran home, taking a little detour, for a total of 1.33 miles. I felt strong, yet a little tight in my left hamstring. I sweated an unbelievable amount. Even back at home while stretching, the sweat poured from my face.

Tuesday, after work, I ran 1.26 miles with my 8 year old in the cool evening air.

Today (Wednesday), time to pick up my car, I ran down to the beach first. I ran it at a leisurely pace. The ground still wet from a downpour earlier in the morning, enormous puffy clouds hovered over the ocean. The wind blew directly at me for half of the run, adding resistance, and hopefully strength to my muscles. Though I certainly didn't race up Golden Lantern to PCH, I ran it all with little difficulty, and ran on into the service station wishing I had more time to run. Alas, I had no more time. But that is fine, because as I mentioned above, "small, yet frequent recovery runs." (Miles logged today: 5.4)

"A Glorious Comeback"