I spent Thursday limping about and thought it'd be good to take the day off...actually that decision was essentially made for me. I ran a cautious 5 miles around my parent's house on Cape Cod on Friday. I didn't feel my hammy at all but opted to keep the run short.
I woke up on Saturday morning on my boat in Martha's Vineyard. My head was pounding. I drank my weight in rum the evening before while walking around the port and now I was paying for it. I dragged myself out of my room then downed some Gatorade. My head ached and I longed to get this marlin spike out from behind my left eye. POUND, POUND, POUND. My dad dropped me off at shore and I proceeded to run out of town. It was already quarter of ten and the sun was pounding. I would sweat out the rum...all of it. The first 2 to 3 miles were painful but after 20 minutes I sobered up. I ran along the coast on a shadeless beach road and watched beach goers make their way to the sea. I turned around at 34 minutes then began to look for a fountain to wet my whistle, but there was none around. I stopped at a hot dog/shaved ice stand and begged for a cup of water, which I fortunately received. Despite being dehydrated I clicked off 6:00 miles and got in a solid 10.