So after working my way up gradually to running 8 miles or so without too much fatigue, I went home for the holidays and ate turkey and rugelah and drank Wassail until I couldn’t feel my face anymore. Granted, it was an excellent week. But now I’m having a hell of a time getting back into the game.
Today on the treadmill I thought I was going to pass out at mile 2. I made it to 8 miles but only after some serious self-bargaining. I hate to bargain. I ran 6 miles at more or less my normal pace, and then did the last 2 at a slightly slower pace. And I feel like face-planting into a bowl of buttered egg-noodles. Just because that might feel nice.
I’m starting to realize that I may have lost some ground here, which Brian confirmed. “Sometimes when you stop exercising for a little while and then get back into it, it’s harder to get back where you were than it was to get there the first time,” he said. I wish I’d realized that while I was double-fisting eggnog and pumpkin tartlets. But I guess sometimes you have to live and learn. At least the living part was delicious.
As per the usual with my new running schedule, my long run took me to the park this afternoon. I know that the South has a reputation for being full of people who are out of shape and lazy and hate to exercise, but every time I visit this park on my Sunday afternoon run, it is full of people of all shapes and sizes and ages frolicking with their kids, riding bikes, walking dogs, and generally being sickeningly wholesome and outdoorsy. So take that, popular misconceptions!
I Heard Tell 