Thursday Night Run

The weather forecast had predicted storms. Sitting in my office in the windowless basement at the Plant, I had looked to Mother Nature to provide my excuse to wimp out and not do my evening run. But alas, when I walked outside, the weather was gorgeous.

Stupid Mother Nature.

I had no excuse not to run. So I parked in the Waterton lot and put on my running clothes. One last check of the skyline confirmed the lack of impending rain, so I took off up the canyon.

The last several runs I've done have tended to repeat the following pattern: Mile 1 is tough because I'm not warmed up, but no mechanical problems manifest themselves. Mile 2 is a little faster due to loosening up, but there are hints that my left hamstring may not be 100% cooperative. Mile 3 is spent mostly in trying to overcome the urge to create a limping gait to favor my left hammie, which is now actively complaining and shortening up. And Mile 4 is a combination of loose strides with good leg speed (when I'm able to stretch out), and hobbling mummy-shuffles when the leg freezes up and makes me limp like a wooden-legged pirate. It's SO weird...one moment I'll be flying along like a Kenyan and the next I'll be mincing and wincing like a thespian who sat on a cactus.

Yeah, I know...I should stretch more. Or get massages. Or accupuncture. Or some really powerful drugs. But I keep thinking that I'm not really injured; it's just a temporary tightness that I could get rid of if I were mentally strong enough. Perhaps I need a hypnotist.

Oh well. At least I ran 4 miles. That means I can eat peanuts and Jr. Mints with my dinner. That's all that really matters. And if by some strange chance, I do suddenly become disciplined enough to do some yoga or something, I will surely let you know. In the meantime, please send plenty of "loose hammie" vibes my way, and have a great day!