A Viking, running

ORN: Today, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran four miles in 37'35".  I had intended to take two full weeks off after the marathon to rest, because that's what I always heard you should do after a marathon, but I kept asking myself, "Why?"  I was itching to go run.  After my first marathon, I was defeated, physically and emotionally.  My feet got plantar fasciitis, and my spirit took a nosedive.  Between the hard weeks of endless training and the brutal, awful, miserable race, I felt like I was finished as a runner.  My experience after this marathon was so much different.  After Chicago, I felt like I had run a mother of a long run, but that's all.  I had conquered.  I was pleased with my performance, and I didn't hurt anywhere.  By the end of last week, I wondered what I was waiting for.  I know rest is important, but I wanted to run!

 

Then yesterday, to ease back into things, I did my first cross-training workout since the race.  Everything felt fine.  I did 45 hard minutes on a bike, and then I did some FIRST-brand calisthenics.  It wasn't easy, but nothing snapped, broke, or fell off of me.  Encouraged, I packed my bag last night for a lunchtime run today.  Heck with it, I thought, I am a runner.

 

As good as I felt heading out to run today, I wondered what was going to happen.  I made the decision to take a two-week hiatus based on my previous bad experience as well as the advice of stuff I'd read in magazines, books, and blogs.  Everything I read said that rest and recovery was important after a marathon.  Take it easy.  Heal.  Was I opening myself up to injury by running so soon afterward?  I doubted it.  I mean, I feel great.  It's not like I was going to do a dozen mile repeats or something.  So, making excuses to myself on why I should run, off I went.  And I ran like crazy.  I ran my first mile in 9'23", feeling strong, and then blazed through my second mile in 8'57".  I felt myself working hard, but I wasn't red-lining by any means.  And nothing hurt.  I ran on, and  after the third mile, my legs got heavy so I eased up.  But that was it.  That was as bad as it got -- heavy legs.  I finished the final mile easy, took a shower, and went back to my cubicle.  Maybe I should have just done three, but I did four miles and didn't die.  Knock on wood: nothing bad has happened to me because I ran four miles a week after running a marathon.

 

I repeat, nothing bad happened.  The running gods did not smite me.  Nothing hurts, and I am planning the runs for the rest of the week.  I'm back, people.  I ran the marathon and survived. 

 

Moving on.