Our trip to Grapevine for C3 (more on that later) was amazing; however, I didn’t run a step while we were there. I rode the bike for a bit one evening, but that’s it. We got in
really late Friday night really early Saturday morning, so I wasn’t feelin’ my long run Saturday and skipped it. It’s the first run I’ve blatantly skipped since I actually started focusing on my training. I’m hoping I don’t regret it too much on March 4th.
Sunday afternoon, I headed out for a short run to get back in the swing of things. Now, let me back up a tad; I wore heeled boots to church Sunday. My calves had gotten quite the workout while I was wearing them. I clearly did not use my running brain when I picked my outfit for church. I headed for a run in my new, new kicks (they’re just like my others in another color; I am my father’s child)
and quickly was certain I was about to die. My tension usually settles in my calves anyway, so when they were already sore, I was in bad shape. I was only a mile in when I had to give myself a major pep talk. It took me a few little tough love spiels to convince myself I had to keep going.
Less than a half-mile after my talk with myself, a car honked. I didn’t think much of it until I saw it was a black Explorer with a man honking at me. He gave me a huge smile and an enthusiastic thumbs up. All of a sudden, I was refreshed and renewed. Just a simple sign of encouragement made all the difference. I sucked it up, picked up my feet, and finished the run.