On Monday morning I met Karl
and Jimmy for what turned out to be 10 miles.
My legs were in surprisingly good shape considering Sunday’s race. I did
my chiro-prescribed stretches post-run.
On Tuesday morning I met the
same duo for a run in the rain. Karl, as is somewhat customary, was pacing
bowlegged back-and-forth in front of the Golf Lane/Trolley Trail intersection.
His gait resembles a man who has been riding horses his entire life; only
Karl’s didn’t grow up out West, instead, eastern Pennsylvania, on the outskirts
of Philly. It’s strange how he’s able to run so fast strutting around the way
he does. Meanwhile, Jimmy stared blankly
ahead and pondered his upcoming wedding. Deep in thought or still waking up, I
don’t think I saw him blink .The rain was blanketing them from above and I felt
bad about showing up a couple minutes late, leaving them perfect targets for
raindrops. I wasn’t looking forward to getting wet so I had bundled up with my
light windbreaker, ball cap hat as well as gloves. Ten minutes into the run the
rain stopped and I perspired profusely. I probably lost 25 pounds. Probably not,
actually. I got in eight miles, but in my post-run haste, I neglected to get in
my stretches. I feel this might become a norm, but I must be diligent. I must stretch.
On Wednesday morning I ran
four and a half miles and got ready for the evening workout, the likes of which
you’ll read about in my NEXT post because I haven’t run it yet…
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