I just got back from a fantastic, memorable, totally
wonderful, extremely slow 3-mile early morning run. I didn’t take a watch. I
have no idea how fast I went. My experience was noticeably different from my
usual self-prescribed run. I’m icing my left leg as I write this.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been injured, but last
week-end I had to gimp two-miles plus to get home from a planned six mile run
because the muscle in my left calf so much.
On Monday I did nothing. “Time for a break,” I told myself,
although I really had no choice. I hit the ice hard. By Tuesday I could walk a
mile and here it is Friday and I’ve run three miles. With every step, I was
aware of my sore muscle, but it became less noticeable as I went, letting me
know that I probably wasn’t doing any serious damage. It was letting me run.
I finished these few miles with great appreciation, reminded
once again of the amazing healing ability of the human body. If we’ll only
respect it a bit more than we do.
I used to be an avid and consistent stretcher before I ran,
but then pre-run stretching went out of style and I wasn’t going to argue with
that. These days I do a few random stretches at no particular time and at least
once a week I do a Pilates workout. Maybe not enough, I’m thinking.
The more you run, the tighter muscles seem to get until the
day comes when they say, “Whoa! Tend to me.
I’m planning to do some small amount of stretching every
time before I hit the road in the future, and a little more afterwards—and
maybe up that Pilates routine to twice a week.
And I’m contemplating some cross-training. My bike is in sad
need of a workout and a hike in the hills is calling.
Danger lurks, I know. It is too easy to fall back into old
patterns. Running has the allure of being so accessible—right out the front
door—so simple—just throw on a pair of running shoes—and so efficient—40
minutes and you have “exercised” for the day.
But it’s a good thing to mix it up. Take the time to drive
to a favorite trailhead, lace up the hiking boots and soak up the fall colors.
Or pump up those bicycle tires and ride.
The choices are endless. A tour of the foothills, a bicycle
trail that lets you ride almost all the way to Greeley minus traffic, or a spin
around the Fort Collins network of trails.
Meanwhile, as my mistreated muscle slowly heals, I’m loving
the opportunity to run slowly sans watch, pausing to check out road
construction progress and appreciating the joy of temperatures that make early
morning running such a great pleasure.
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