Joyful Sign

After the Half-Wit half marathon, in which I wore my Asics road running shoes, I have only run 20 miles last week, 15 of those I basically sleep-walked (or slept-walk) through. This is what happens when I get sick. To be fair, I also brought a cloud with me to the three Frisbee games last week, during which I averaged 0 touches. I was the monkey in the middle. If opponents would just let me catch the disc, they would learn that I couldn’t throw one, so they’d get the disc back. But I digress.

Noah and I were finally going to run together on Monday this week, but when I got home from work, we didn’t feel like it. I was still sick and it was rainy outside.

So yesterday, I had the day off from work. I was under the weather. The weather was under the weather. But I had to run. And not only did I have to run, I had to run so much so that if people asked me what I did on my day off, I could say something Herculean, like running 16 miles, on no food or water, while sick.

I popped a Tylenol to relieve the headache, and waited and waited until it was raining kittens and puppies, and then went out for the long run. With my legs feeling fresh and my head back in the right place, I was bouncy and in control through the first 8 miles. I guess when I feel good, I don’t get bored. When this one dog in the neighborhood chased me through the invisible fence in his yard, I was giddy to be running away.

At some point, reason started to catch up to me. At mile 9, I realize I should eat something, so I stopped home for a gel. At mile 12, I reflected upon my immaturity and short-sightedness, and decided to cut the run short so that I can run in the Wanderers track meet today and continue to recover from this cold. So, I made a U-turn and went home. I wound up with 14 miles. I was pleased.

So, on my day off, I went for a run.