I’ve been beating on the tops of my legs with a billy club.
I am so sore! I don’t know if it’s due to the new house and having stairs for the first time ever, or that the few times I’ve run since the Luna I’ve really tried to push myself.
Either way, I ran an 8:55 mile today (compared to 12 minutes just weeks ago). Just one mile though. Couldn’t have maintained it for much longer (heavens no), but it happened. The whole time I gasped for air and I thought, “How can a real human actually maintain this pace, how can anyone possibly maintain this pace???? *gasp, gasp, gasp*” I stopped after that mile, why mess with success? I swam a half-mile just before the run and needed to test my suit to see if would be comfortable to run in. It’ll do. Now, only 4 more days until my next brush with death.
Wow.
I could never run a mile unless my life depended on it. Way to go!