My Wednesday morning run was amazing: longest run I've completed since I got sick. 6 miles and change felt like slicing through butter. Didn't go fast (close to a 12 minute mile), but still made the best 10k time I've run yet. So, you would think last night's run would have been simpler, since it was only 4 miles.
Not even close.
I wore my "short run" shoes, which I had done some lacing experiment on, and I had to stop 1.11 miles in to COMPLETELY re-lace them and then start my run over. By the time I re-laced, it had taken me that entire mile to warm up anyway. My calf and, really, everything on my right leg was cramping like CRAZY and I kept having to stop and stretch/walk. Then my shorts were riding up. The wires on iPod all over the place. I had to pee in the middle of the run.
Of course, I didn't count the time I spent peeing, so my actual run time was about 44 minutes. At just over 11 minutes a mile, considering the walking and stretching, I should have been very happy, since my goal for any run over 5k is 10 minute miles, and the fact that I can get to 11 while hurting and walking is very encouraging. I don't even think I went 11 minutes and 4 seconds on my 10k PR run the day before. But I'll take a 12-minute mile and a brilliant run over a shitty fast run any day.
I had to come home and massage my shin/calf/foot, elevate, and of course bitch and moan. For the first time since I've been running (and that's almost 12 years), I actually asked myself, Why am I doing this to myself? I asked myself the same question people like to ask me aaallll the time: why do you run? Why do you race? Why do you do triathlons?
I still don't have an answer, so that means I'm not going to stop.