Speaking of not being able to run, here's a little gem I found while going through old video files. This was from September of 2010; nearly a year ago. I was in the initial stages of life without ANY running. While I honestly don't remember recording this, I remember the feeling quite well (I'm well beyond it, thankfully). While I was trying to be funny, the sentiment was real. A happy camper I was not.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Wow, I Was Ticked!
First, let me say that I'm approaching a dangerous time as a runner. The last few weeks of short, relatively show runs has me feeling like a caged tiger, knowing he's going to be set free soon. The cage door is being unlocked, and the tiger is ready to bolt to freedom. No, I'm not suddenly 100% injury-free, but I've run enough with minimal (or no) pain lately that just that little taste has me eager to bust out a longer, faster run...or ten. I've been here before (as many of you probably have), and it takes a LOT of discipline for me to hold back. I'll continue to do my best in that department. What will be even harder is when my daughter, who I've been running with, goes back to school. I'll then be left to run on my own most of the time. Talk about will power! I'll have to keep the memory of NOT BEING ABLE to run at all fresh in my mind.
Speaking of not being able to run, here's a little gem I found while going through old video files. This was from September of 2010; nearly a year ago. I was in the initial stages of life without ANY running. While I honestly don't remember recording this, I remember the feeling quite well (I'm well beyond it, thankfully). While I was trying to be funny, the sentiment was real. A happy camper I was not.
Speaking of not being able to run, here's a little gem I found while going through old video files. This was from September of 2010; nearly a year ago. I was in the initial stages of life without ANY running. While I honestly don't remember recording this, I remember the feeling quite well (I'm well beyond it, thankfully). While I was trying to be funny, the sentiment was real. A happy camper I was not.
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That was sad! All I can advise is to think of your hound dog expression and how you felt back then when you crank-up your speed on your next run and feel an initial twinge of pain from your heel spur tearing into your Achilles tendon. Imagine a sober Captain Kirk unexpectedly shouting to Scotty in the engine room: "Scotty - shut 'er down, we'll get there; Otherwise she's gonna blow, and the mission is too important!"
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