Since healing from my track-induced glute injury, I've missed a singular workout. That was last Thursday, when, after riding home from work, I realized I was a little tired and needed a power nap before going on the day's scheduled 8-mile hill workout. I lied down around 5:30 in the evening and didn't arise from slumber until 5:00 the next morning. Guess I was more than a little tired.
After two days' rest, I am back on track. A relaxed-pace 10-mile jaunt with N--- yesterday morning was incredible, as the air was cool and my body felt grateful for the extra rest day during the week. Chores & such occupied the rest of my day, but I did manage to get to bed at a decent hour. The time change helped, too, and I was off & running by 7:00 this morning, this time at a little quicker clip, and with twice the distance to cover.
Living where I do is nice. I have innumerable routes I can run or bike, right out of my front door, with little-to-no traffic, and over varying terrain. Today was rolling-to-hilly, once I got off 78...five or so miles in. Despite my having the accursed iPod strapped to my arm (I ditched it at 17 miles, courtesy of N--- and the best darned support one could hope for), I did find myself lost in thought, especially over what happened yesterday in New York. Even though I wouldn't have known Ryan Shay from anyone, I do feel a deep loss for not only the running community, but also -- and especially -- for his wife. That she has such a close group of friend and fellow runners comes as small consolation; I pray she makes it through this peacefully.
On such a somber note, I believe I will sign off. Thanks for reading.
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