I’ve aqua jogged. I’ve done core work. I’ve circled the house a dozen times doing walking lunges. I’ve iced my foot three times. I’ve stretched. And now it’s 10 pm and I’m sitting here at the computer with a cup of coffee. I realize this will make sleep challenging, but my willpower and good intentions only get me to 9:30 pm. The dirty dishes in my sink were going to sit out overnight again if I didn’t get some caffeine in my system. Hey, it’s not a diet soda. Or crack.
The aqua jogging torture was less torturous tonight. A friendly man and his children kept my mind off the tiny laps. I love the part of the conversation when someone asks, “And, how long is the race?” (Of course I told the fellow I was jogging around the pool because I was an injured runner training for a race; I didn’t want this nice stranger or his children to think jogging around a pool with a big purple waist belt was my idea of fun.) It’s always a moment of satisfaction when I get to say the race is 100 miles long. I may not manage to wash my dishes regularly, wear fashionable clothing, talk about much in depth beyond potty training strategies, or do anything more exciting in the morning than build a cherry picker out of Legos, BUT I do run 100 mile races. Cool points.
On another note, I think runners coming to Leadville from topographically challenged areas should get some sort of asterisk by their names. South Texas and Kansas runners are you with me? I mean, honestly, this weekend in Houston couldn’t have been flatter. And I believe we were 40 feet above sea level. The fellow I was running with is going to come down to San Antonio to do some hill training. San Antonio! And perhaps two asterisks for having to train to climb Hope Pass in a pool? Maybe I could start putting my face in the water to simulate altitude…
Some race reports