It took me 6 days before I could bring myself to run again.
The half marathon was last Saturday but for some reason I simply didn't want to run. It was Friday before I finally told my legs there had been enough dilly dallying.
I managed to hit the gym for an hour Monday before my dearest friend Ash bo Bash helped me move box after box after box (plus a shelf and TV) over to my new living quarters. By the end of that day, I was so exhausted/dehydrated, I didn't even want to move.
For the rest of the week, I was lazy, sluggish and definitely didn't keep an eye on my diet. Except to watch it fly away. Grilled cheese sandwiches have never been considered healthy. Neither have donuts unfortunately...
Friday came and I was finally ready to hit the pavement with my running shoes securely tied on my feet. I must have forgotten to tell my legs I was ready because they certainly weren't. Just 1 mile in the run and my calves were tightening badly - and that was in spite of dutifully stretching beforehand.
Twice on that 6.2 mile run my calves hurt too much to keep up a pace and I had to walk for a block - usually until I saw another runner and felt I had to push through it or shame myself.
I still don't know if that run was so difficult because I hadn't run all week, or because running 13.1 miles and moving/unpacking most of the week took it out of me. Whatever the reason, I refuse to spend the next beautiful months of summer walking through the Avenues instead of running those hilly streets. I REFUSE.
Hopefully my calves won't put up too much resistance...
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