St. Patrick's Day Run

Okay, long time, no post, but I've been plagued with minor injuries this year, causing me to cancel out of both trail runs I planned to do with Shelby. So, my first run with Shelby this year ended up coming four days ago: In honor of St. Patrick's Day, Shelby and I ran the Westport St. Patrick's Day Run! I don't have pictures, but suffice to say, we were super cute in our matching shamrock accessories. We started in the back of the 4,500-person pack, one of only a few dog-person running pairs, and finished in 33:05, a time I was impressed with because of how many people we had to pass in that first mile. Whew!

As usual, we had a blast--Shelby is quite the competitor and is at the perfect height for finding gaps in crowds. Of course, gaps that work for her aren't always big enough for me to squeeze through, so there was a lot of apologizing and excusing myself, but no one seemed to care. Everyone we passed smiled and made a good-humored comment about needing "one of those" (referring to my four-legged pulling machine) or "cheating." The kids watching the run got the biggest kick out of Shelby: Their eyes lit up as they pointed and shouted, "Look at the dog!"

We've both been a little sore since then, but it was a good tempo run. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

More Tentative Hurrahs

This week, Shelby and I have run between 14 and 15 miles: 2.5 miles Tuesday, 3 miles Wednesday, 5 miles Saturday, and 4 miles Sunday. I didn't intend to run that much, but everything has felt good so far--and she was soooo much calmer every day after our runs. Without the activity, she has put on a little weight and taken to chasing my cat and Meeso, some times going on random sprints around the house late at night. She gets bored at the dog park after 20 minutes or so, so that wasn't helping as much as I had hoped.

Not running had the opposite effect on me: My mood slumped considerably, and I felt tired much of the time. This year's running span has been my longest consecutive stretch of running (or doing any kind of exercise) without a break in my life at nine months (so far), and the positive addiction wasn't evident until the toe forced me to take those three weeks off. Getting my bike out again was great, but it didn't provide the same intensity and has the added issue of being dangerous in a city that is not bike friendly. I couldn't stand going to the gym, trying to find machines to use that would give me the same exhausted, exhilarated, fulfilled feeling that running gave me. Swimming, biking, elliptical machines--none of them did it. I like running too much--purposeless, random running just to get out and move without mechanical devices aiding the way. Weird. I never thought I would admit to such a thing, but there it is. It makes me feel good, it has reshaped my body a bit (more on that later), and it gives me a chance to bond with Shelby and what bit of nature I can experience in a city environment. I like running.

If I can keep taking it slow and keeping the mileage within reason, I'm hoping we'll be in good shape for whatever short runs I sign up this fall (our zoo's 4-mile run is one of my favs, and I signed up to be one leg in a marathon relay team months ago). I'm still considering doing the MS150 this year, too, now that I've gotten back onto my bike. We'll see.

Back?

I went to a podiatrist three weeks ago who declared "seisamoiditis" after talking with me and looking over x-rays. That was a good thing because it means none of the bones are fractured, but he still suggested a foot brace/walking caste thing--even though he said it wouldn't help my foot heal any more quickly. I opted out of that and went my merry way, getting out my bike again to try to keep in shape for the 4-6 weeks he suggested I rest.

The bike's been good to me: I quickly remembered how much I love riding (I used to ride everywhere and do MS150s every fall), but I was still antsy to get back to my morning runs. Last week, after more than two weeks, my foot was feeling fine, so I tried out running on a treadmill. The first day, I only did one mile, and while my foot didn't bother me too much, I was disappointed at how winded I felt. I'd been exercising almost every day, but the biking, swimming, and other activities just didn't get my heart going the way running does. The next day, I did two miles and felt good, but I quit when my foot started bothering me and decided to take a few days off.

The pain didn't last past the second I stepped off the treadmill, so today, after three more days without running, I took off with Shelby for a 2.5 miler. She was ecstatic, almost knocking me down the stairs when I left her out of her crate after putting Meeso into hers. We took a well-worn path to a nearby park, and Shelby--and my foot--did great. Again, though, the breathing got me: Shelby wanted to go the same speed we had been going a month ago, and I kept having to tug on her leash to get her to slow down so I could gulp enough air to keep going.

I'm a little disappointed at how quickly I lost the pace I worked for months to gain, but the joy of being out again more than makes up for it. I know I can get it back; I just have to make sure I don't push too hard or too much in the process . . .