Ten and Two

I had planned on doing a twelve miler tomorrow. I get off work early on Fridays, so it gives me time to finish before dark.

While arranging my schedule, I decided to get the twelve done before the long weekend (my dedicated writing weekend, see writing blog). So last night, I split up my twelve into a ten and a two.

I changed after work (my usual routine), and ran the downtown St. Pete waterfront route that I love. Beforehand, I planned to do eight miles. Because it would be getting dark by the time I finished, I would leave and run four more around the park near my house.

Something happened, an extremely rare occurrence for me. I felt so good that I decided to keep going and do ten miles. Thank you, Jesus, for those moments! It makes me feel like a real runner.

As my last blog showed, more often I have to do LESS mileage than I plan, and walk when I don't plan on it.

There were probably a hundred people running along the waterfront, which makes me happy. Run, St. Pete, run! The weather was much cooler than I thought it would be with a nice breeze. I was in the zone, as people say. I even sped up the last mile, finishing in under two hours. For me, that's huge.

I got home where sweet hubby was running out to get food to make us dinner. I only had two miles left. No biggie. Took a bathroom break, sipped some water, ready to go.

As soon as I got outside and started moving, my body shut down. It was as if I spent every last ounce of energy on the ten miler. My legs were on fire. My limbs were not cooperating. I trudged through my neighborhood, around the park, and back. Luckily, it was dark by then because I'm sure I wasn't a pretty sight.

Pain, pain, more pain. At home, lots of stretching and groaning.

The entire ten miles felt like a breeze compared to the final two. How weird is that? Of course, hubby pointed out that I got in the car and drove home, allowing my legs to stiffen. It actually makes sense, but I didn’t anticipate those last two being so hard. Granted, there is no such thing as “only two” in my Anti-Running book, even if I haven’t done ten miles beforehand.

But it's done.

Today is our four-year anniversary (yay!). I will be at Melting Pot with hubby enjoying every last drop of cheese and chocolate fondue. Hey, why run if not for the food?