Payback sucks.
Yesterday I went running with a friend. I use the word in its most liberal sense. He hadn’t been out exercising in awhile and he was using me to get himself motivated. He only wanted an eight km run, which is so short, I really don’t need to tie my shoes. He conked out halfway through and we walked most of the rest. At Victoria hill, he wanted to run it, and he did start out with a good pace. That lasted halfway up the hill and we walked the rest. At the top he found a bench and collapsed on it. According to him, if he didn’t lie down he would throw up.
Me, I was just enjoying the nice weather. Not even sure I broke a sweat. (Yes, I’m bragging. It just makes my fall that much more entertaining.)
After he made the best french toast I have ever had. He likes to cook, and I am perfectly willing to be the guy who eats what he makes.
However, payback came today. For the past year I have had a shoulder injury. That normally doesn’t sound like it would prevent me from running, but the shoulder muscles are shared with the lungs. So, after awhile, trouble breathing. It has slowly been getting better, and so I have been able to do further runs. It’s been about a year and a half since I have run 32 km. (Can you tell where I am going with this?)
Today was a run scheduled to be that distance. For the first 45 minutes it was rather awkward because my right calf was tight and I was wondering how far I would be able to go. That went away when I warmed up and we continued on the rather hilly route. When you go that far you pretty much cover a good chunk of the city. Kinsmen. Snow valley. Qu’appelle bridge. The legislature.
The last seven kilometers did me in. I got a stitch in my side. It went away when I walked, but that is only for one minute for every ten minutes of running. I kept up, falling behind a bit as we went along. I completed it about a minute behind the pack. But I did it. And now I feel terrible. (Note: We actually ran 33 km.)
My legs hurt, and so I don’t really want to take long steps. I don’t need to vomit, but I’m not that far off.
To celebrate I’m going to go to McDonalds and gorge myself on a quarter pounder with cheese. Mmmm. Greasy!
Let’s hope I can make the walk there.