I’ve run a lot this week, I’ve done it for no other reason than to satisfy myself. On that note, I’m really, truly happy.
My body, on the other hand, could use a day off, which is why Wednesday, I will be forcing myself to go to Yoga Vida, and dragging poor Noah along with me. His 6’1″ muscles could use some lengthening, whereas for me? I’m trying to forget that yesterday ever happened.
Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic. It wasn’t all that bad, after all. But on Tuesday morning, I woke up with a bit of disconnect between my body and my brain. The former said sleep; the latter said run, run, run! And so after packing 21 miles into 3 days over the weekend, I figured that a short, 3-mile run couldn’t hurt, and it’d be at least enough to satisfy my cerebral cravings. I was very, very wrong about the first part of that statement though.
While yes, it felt amazing to be outside in the fresh, 40-something degree air and sure, I was ultimately glad I squeezed 30 minutes of sweat into my morning, nothing else was painless about that 3-mile run.
I kept it simple: Run over to 1st Avenue and take it all the way up, past the U.N. building, to 59th Street and Sutton Place. Stretch for a couple of minutes by the water, and run home. That’s 1.5 miles there and 1.5 miles back. Easy, breezy, right?
As it turned out, the only memorable parts about Tuesday morning’s run were my tight calves and shins – and the views of the East River. Ah, the views.
Let’s leave it at that, shall we? Because while there are good runs and there are great runs and there are indescribably OMFG amazing runs, sometimes, the views are simply better than the runs themselves. Thank goodness for those.
Can’t win ’em all, right? When I have a terrible run, I try to focus on something – anything – else besides my achy or tired body. What tricks do you use to get you through however many miles you’ve planned? Music? People watching? Scenery? Sitting on the side of the road and weeping into your sweaty hands?