I’m feeling very recovered and good right now. Earlier today I did a total of six laps at Farris with the dogs (two with Tito, four more with the ladies). Happy (the dog, not the state of being) is conked out on the couch. Sunny (the dog, not the weather condition) could keep going. Tito (the dog, not the boxer Tito Trinidad, his namesake) is becoming quite the runner for a little guy.
My feet are back at 100%. I learned a lot in Charleston, and I think having run it essentially barefoot has made me a better runner. I had gas in the tank at the finish for the first time. Yes the roads were rough and hampered my performance, but there’s not a bit of damage to my feet. I don’t care that my time could have been better. Running it the way I did was an investment.
Feet are hands. Their job is to collect information about the environment that influences what we do with ourselves. If I’m going to run, I want to be moving in concert with reality as much as possible. The pain and discomfort of reality presents an opportunity to ask myself, is the road causing the pain, or am I? The answer should be obvious: I’m sentient, the ground is not. I’m moving, the ground is not. Most importantly, I’m changeable, the ground is not. The ground isn’t doing anything to me. I am doing this to me. So I change. My feet tell me what to do. I’m not fluent in the language, but I’m getting better. Races like Charleston are master classes.
Another reason I’m not too miffed about my slower than hoped for time is that it might be beatable at Umstead. Bring on the hills and trails.
So, Umstead. I would like to prepare myself for this one so that I feel the way I did in November. I think I was on to something – lots of miles at medium distances, fewer long runs. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll run long (over 20) once in February, but the rest of my runs will be between six and 16 miles. And of course, lots of trails.
One change: I’m going to start re-adding the slower runs to the mix. Today I averaged around a minute slower than my regular “just running” pace, and I feel like I’ve been to a spa. When I took advantage of the warm days in late December and ran some easy barefoot miles? Spa. More spa. Maybe it will result in faster races as the experts suggest, but let’s face it. I’m a libertine. Spa feels good.
My survival instincts or whatever must have erased the memories of suffering from this weekend – I’m really looking forward to taking on the challenges the next half a year has in store for me. I’ll try to be more cranky tomorrow. All this positivity is annoying.