My last few runs have gone like this:
- • 9.4 Kilometers in an hour. Happy. Excited. Tired.
- • 4 Kilometers in 35 minutes. Dejected. Exhausted. Frustrated.
- • 6 Kilometers in 40 minutes. Frustrated. In pain.
- • 9.6 Kilometers in an hour. Elated. Sweaty.
- • 6 Kilometers in 35 minutes. Serious pain. Very frustrated.
I think I am going to give him the night off and see if a rest sorts him out.
I realize that I am being overly dramatic. Having a wee bit of pain in your leg when you run is nothing like those hardcore footballers that get hurt on the pitch. Although, maybe it is. Perhaps the feeling that Francesco Totti feels when he bumps into Thierry Henry, collapses on the grass and screams like a teen-aged girl at a Twilight premier, is the exact same feeling I had last night. I did walk to the side lines (of the gym), stretched a bit, then walked home. Just like a proper footballer. Minus the screaming and rolling about on the grass trying to convince the ref that I was wronged by the treadmill. Is that why they have running coaches? Do they teach you how to flop on the ground and get a yellow card for the treadmill? I need to get one of those, then.
With any luck, my leg will sort itself out and I can continue my running endeavors. I have boosted my average speed in the last week and with luck, I can get back out there to lend my support to my friend Sarah who is running a half marathon. She is well ahead of me in her training.
As an aside, Gimp Flipper is a great band name.