First Post-Illness Run

As my week of being ill progressed, I watched in dismay as the days when I did NOT run added up. But the Boilermaker, I thought. What about the Boilermaker? I made up my mind I would run today (Saturday). An off week is only a minor setback! I can still train enough in time!

We had gotten up at five (couldn’t sleep), and it was twenty after six when I got out the door. My thermostat said 40 degrees. Usually I go shorts and short sleeves for 45 and above. I put on my leopard-spotted long johns and long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt and hoped I would not feel too warm as the run progressed. As I brushed my teeth I could hear the wind whistling in a way that made me expect to hear the theme music to The Wizard of Oz and figured I would not over-heat. I put on my toque instead of a headband and set out.

The sidewalks and roads were still wet from last night’s rain, but there weren’t too many puddles to avoid. I decided a 20 minute run would be good enough and I was not obligated to run any hills. I turned towards Main Street, thinking I would run up it and over to the path over what used to be a hydraulic canal. It was grey and gloomy out. The sun was up but not very high. One of my favorite things is to go running while it’s still dark out and have the sun come up while I run. But this was nice, too.

I admired the bare trees against the grey sky but hoped for leaves soon. Looking closely at some of the branches I could see buds. Come on, Spring! The temperature was not too bad. I felt I had dressed appropriately. Only my hands were cold, especially my fingers. Well, one must deal with these things. As I reached the end of the first stretch of path and started across German Street the wind was directly behind me, pushing me. I appreciated the psychological boost.

I was running very slowly. Breathing was not difficult. My legs began to complain. Well, there is just no pleasing my legs. All week they felt awful, because I was neither walking nor running. Now I start to run and they bitch at me. I ignored them an kept going. Grey, cloudy skies ahead of me. If I looked straight over my head I could see a little blue peeking through. That gave me hope.

After a while the wind became dead against me. No matter, I told myself. More effort burns more calories and will better build me up for the Boilermaker. I would just have to live with the cold hands. I had had the foresight to stuff a tissue into my sleeve. I pretty much used it up. Again, no matter. There were other tissues back home, which is the general direction I was headed by now.

I headed towards Meyers Park. When I first started running again after moving to Herkimer (I had many sedentary months here first), I made it a habit to always go through the park, either at the beginning or the end of my run. I stopped doing this every time as my run area expanded, but it’s always nice to go through the park. I again admired the bare trees while feeling a little wistful that they are still bare.

My legs were SO not happy with me. I was resolutely trying to ignore them when suddenly I felt something… different. Could that be a muscle? Was I developing a muscle? Yes, I could feel my thigh muscles working. That was kind of cool. They were quietly pumping along in a business-like fashion and the rest of my legs were just kind of going along. They were no longer complaining. I can’t say it was the “I can rock this” stage. More like a determined, “OK, let’s DO this.”

It soon became clear that I would go over my 20 minutes, although not by much. I didn’t feel too awful. This was going to be all right. The sun was all the way up now and I could see blue skies up ahead. No, really, I saw actual bits of blue in between the clouds. It wasn’t just my end of the run optimism.

When Tabby and I walked my cool-down, my legs felt even better. I felt so happy that I had gotten that first run under my belt. When one has a pause in one’s running for whatever reason, some say just getting started again is the hardest part. I expect to find out tomorrow if that is true or if continuing is just as hard. No matter. I intend to run regardless of difficulty. I’m a runner again.