Lifetimes are catching up with me

I am hobbling around like an old lady in need of a walker.  My legs, which appear to be on strike, are no longer responding to commands from my brain.

Me, if I had glasses, a perm, and a walker. In other words, future me.

Yesterday I joined a run club for my first runner’s bootcamp, which was fantastic in that it reinforced the laziness that characterizes my gluteuses minimus and maximus.  Surrounded by much faster runners, I held my own at the back of the pack and felt groovy for the rest of the day. 

Today I dragged my DOMS-ridden butt on my first ever loooong trail run (30K, to be precise, previous longest trail run = 18K).  Under picture perfect trail and weather conditions, my posterior region voiced concern on every uphill and downhill, which was most of the glorious rolling run.  The single track sections provided some relief as the fancy footwork distracted my brain from the persistent complaining below.   

It is the latter activity that, in retrospect, was the ill-advised decision for which my legs are now punishing me by forcing me to walk like I spent too much time on horseback. 

By the end of the run, out of water, out of energy, and stumbling around lost on single track side trails that branched in multiple directions, I started looking around for familiar landmarks instead of watching the tricky ground below.  It will come as no surprise to long-time readers that I hit a rock and did my now classic superman soar to the ground.  Fortunately I landed on a soft pad of pine needles and jumped back up unscathed. 

Approximately thee minutes later I found the main trail – seems I wasn’t horribly lost and if I wasn’t so weary I would have enjoyed the diversion instead of worrying that I had veered from my planned route and no one knew where I was and why oh why did running a side trail at 28K seem like good idea.  As I thought these thoughts I ran the last kilometre back to the car and the chocolate milk waiting for me (thanks to the kindness of training partners).

Sigh.  What a great weekend.  My pathetically weak glutes will thank me in 2012.

Title: Pearl Jam – Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town. 1993.


2 responses to “Lifetimes are catching up with me

  1. Wow–awesome that you did that! I am inspired (but not inspired enough to actually do that).

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