Despite the snow and the ice the temperate began to rise and my nose began to smell the first hints of spring. I smelled the sun and knew it would come. Soon I was struck by brilliant sunshine.
The Line was packed with runners from near and far. The melting snow made trail running almost impossible and steered many from the neighborhood sidewalks and bike paths to the great winter running mecca; Beach Drive. Our pack began as it normally might; Karl, Sam, PMurphy, Hanson and me. We turned our backs to Maryland and pressed down the car-less road giggling like school girls as we talked about our weekend ballyhoo. We passed scores and scores of runners. Karl waved to Santa. The temperature warmed and we began to sweat. We came upon old Benedict Sloane out for a 22 miler. He boarded our caboose and we continued on our way. I was having a fine time - I wasn't in any pain. I felt as if I could run all day, but I knew I couldn't and knew I shouldn't. I turned around at the Stone Bridge with Sloane in tow. About 5 minutes later we came upon Chris Bain and together our trio cruised back to the Line. I expected some discomfort from my quad, but that never came. It would though...but when? I waited, but still...nothing. We up-ticked the pace some, but nothing too ridiculous. It felt good to have endorphins again. I extended my stride, did some butt kicks and high knees and then finished the 53 minute run. Still no pain...no discomfort.
The sun rose even higher in the sky and its rays broke through the trees warming everything in its path.
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