So, in an unprecedented effort to stick to my guns on the story telling…let’s open that whole can of worms that is otherwise known as running.
As I alluded to yesterday, I rekindled my romance with running last in March(ish) of 2011. Honestly, I blame Twitter. I started seeing tweets in my timeline about so and so finishing Day2 Week3 of the C25K program, and just *had* to find out what that was all about. Because I am nothing if not nosey. What I found out intrigued me. An app that purported to get you from sitting on the couch to *running* a full 5K in 12 weeks? An app that would provide you with a little voice inside your head, to tell you what to do next? So, basically training that I didn’t have to think about…just needed to follow instructions? Sign. Me. Up.
Of course, in typical pack animal fashion, I drafted one of my closest friends…the very one that had dragged me into the running store in the first place…to complete this program with me. And she did. For the next 12 weeks, we would get together, 3 nights a week, and do whatever the masochistic voice in the app told us to do. Honestly, in the beginning, it wasn’t anything too terrible. Walk for a minute, run for 90 seconds, do the hokey pokey…you know, the basic stuff. Over time, the walking became shorter, and the running became longer. Finally, on a Friday night in early June, we lined up at the starting line of the Race Against Poverty, and prepared to take the plunge.
After 12 weeks of strict adherence to the plan, I ran every step of the 3.1 mile course, without pain, and finished the race in 30:36. I was damned proud.
As soon as this was accomplished, we embarked upon the Bridge to 10K program, with the earnest belief and desire to step up to 6.2 miles deep into the summer. A few weeks in, we ran the Spirit of Gettysburg 5K. I eagerly anticipated setting a PR, as I just *knew* I should be able to crush my old time, based upon the longer distances I had already started putting in. It was an extremely hilly course, that wound through wide open battlefields, on a very hot morning. My time was 30:34, and I was *quite* disappointed.
Anyway, back to the Bridge to 10K, for about 5 weeks, all was well. And then July hit full force. It was HOT. It was HUMID. And our interest started to wane a wee bit. Finally, in mid-July, a trip to Texas, to visit the in-laws, put what would be the final nail in a (thankfully temporary) coffin on my running efforts…
With the best of intentions, I packed my running gear for a family vacation. My in-laws live on a beautiful lake in Texas. My sister in law informed me that the distance around the lake was approximately 3 miles. This was perfect. So I arose early, one morning, strapped on my shoes, and set out for a trot.
Now, the thing to know about where they live is that it is surprisingly hilly for Texas. Also? There is more than one lake in their neighborhood. I didn’t know either of these things as I set out on my run.
The first mile or so was fine…it was still very early, and relatively cool out. I came to a road aptly named “Lake Cross”, and started over it…a small way into it, I noticed that there was water on *both* sides of the street. Not wanting to cheat myself out of my 3 mile distance, I turned around and continued along the road I was originally on.
It went on for a long, long time.
Just shy of 6 miles to be exact.
By the time I returned to their home, it was 90 degrees. I was drenched, and I had a horrible blister on the ball of my foot.
Looking at my father in law I said “Your lake is *not* 3 miles around, it is closer to 6.”
Looking back at me, he said “There are two lakes.”
This is riveting stuff, no?
So, perhaps tomorrow we will have the exciting conclusion to the cliffhanger of the blister. I know, you can hardly wait.