Train Kept a Rollin'

Remember that song? Aerosmith, circa 1974? (Turns out it was a cover song, but I never knew that.)

After just listening to it in preparation for Spinning tonight, I realized that I was kinda the train that kept a rollin' yesterday. I went out at 7:15ish a.m. for my long run. I'd done long runs of 10.4 miles on July 13 and 8 miles on July 27, with vacation and my race in between. Turns out the 8 last weekend was supposed to be 10 again, but I'd injured my foot on vacation and took it easy. (Plus I honestly couldn't remember if I was supposed to do 8, 10, a million... so I just did 8.)

Late last week, I asked IronHubby if I should go for the 12 on my schedule or try 8-10 again. He's fairly conservative, so he said to go out 4 miles, turn around and come home, and if I felt good to keep going a bit more. Made sense. I iced my foot every day last week and felt great Sunday morning... except for my steady 36-hour diet of Bobbies, Bobbies, and more Bobbies. Hey, we had leftovers! What was I supposed to do? Throw them away? PERISH THE THOUGHT!

So off I went. Despite IronHubby's advice, I knew I'd do at least the 10.4 mile loop again. When I got to the turnaround, though, I decided to add a little extra... so instead of heading right back I made an extra loop of about half a mile. By the end of my planned run, my knees hurt, my hips hurt, and my foot was killing me. Still, I persevered. I passed my house, tossed my water bottles on the front lawn, and did an extra mile through my neighborhood to end up with just under 12.1 miles total. Slow, laborious, painful miles. But 12+ nonetheless.

Longest run since November. Most painful, too.