#357: Recovery and Ramping Up the Miles

There's something strange about the idea of running to recover from a run. They tell me it's smart to get moving again. Breaks up the lactic acid or something. So, I gave it a shot. Here's today's journal entry.

60 degrees. 3.58 mi/40:37 7:08 AM. Adidas. No Walk Breaks. Splits: 11:43, 11:28, 11:07. Recovery run. Slight soreness inside right ilium during warm up. Worked its way out. Feels fine now.

The hip bone's connected to the...

Just showing off with the ilium thing. I don't remember much from Mr. McGregor's high school biology class, so when one of those anatomy names floats up out of the fog between my ears, I like to throw it in. Sort of like saying gastrocnemius instead of calf. These little indulgences help me feel like I'm still mentally functional. What I meant was that I had a little soreness on the inside of my right hip bone, but since hip bones are a relatively new phenomenon on my body, I think I should be able to call them whatever I want. No matter how much my spell checker complains about it.

Not actually Pennsy

This morning's run was not pastoral like Saturday's long one, but it is lovely on the streets Rat 7:00 in the morning, especially when the big clock in front of the bank says it's 60 degrees. I decided to go slow today, just to get my heart pumping and to keep up the momentum from the weekend. At the last minute I took off my watch, the one that beeps my time intervals. I would take my breaks when I felt like it, or maybe not at all. I had a short warm up, then started jogging at the corner where a crossing guard, a retired-looking fellow with orange gloves and vest was placing cones at the cross walks, preparing for the kids to arrive at our neighborhood elementary school. I wished him a good morning, and he smiled and waved a day-glo colored hand at me. It reminded me that I've got to get one of those reflective vest thingees before the mornings get much darker. Next paycheck. After a couple of blocks at an easy pace, I decided to go without walk breaks, just to see if I could maintain a tempo. I felt so good after two miles that I trotted through another mile and a half. Easy pace, quiet breath. No pressing. No pushing. Just gently gliding along. Smooth up the hills, coast down the other side. When I finished, the crossing guard was just picking up his cones and finishing his work for the morning.

"Get 'em all in safe and sound?" I called from across the street.

"Oh, yeah!" he answered with a smile. Something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot of each other.

Can't wait to wear this tee-shirt

I'm going to try increasing my mileage by switching to an every-other day schedule. The cooler mornings make running feel even better, and they also remind me that October and the Iron Horse Half-marathon are around the corner. My only goals are to finish, and to maintain that minimum 14:00/mile pace so I don't wash out. I really don't think that's going to be a problem as long as I keep training and stay healthy.

I have some chores to do around the house this morning, then it's off to the gym for LIVESTRONG at the YMCA in the afternoon. Melissa tried to kill us with a brutal spinning class on Wednesday. There's no telling what evil her imagination has conjured up since then. I have learned that crying for mercy is useless. She doesn't even respond to guilt: "Don't you know we are all battling a fatal illness?" The best thing to do is just shut up, listen to the music, and keep your feet moving. Just like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer... it feels so good when you stop.

Peace,
Pennsy