Week 2, Run 2
This morning's early two-mile run began with a momentary panic, as there were no treadmills available with TVs. 3/10 of a mile in, one opened up, so I hastily repositioned myself in front of Morning Joe for the second consecutive morning. I am wondering if this show has any credibility when the hosts are always telling the guests how great they look. Today there was a lot of talk about Iran as a superpower and not a lot of election excitement, so I mostly tuned it out and concentrated on my music and tried not to think about my tremendous calf pain.
I tried to go a little faster since it was only a two-miler, and my calves protested. I kept running because I guess some pain is inevitable. Post-run, it is my shins giving me trouble, but I plan to soldier on. I know that I need to spend more time after the run stretching out these sore spots, but it's hard to do that in the morning because I'm rushing around like a maniac. Hopefully once Daylight Saving Time ends and it's lighter outside earlier, I can do some of these morning runs outside and save myself some driving time. This is all very fascinating, I know.
I've been contemplating just what is happening when my muscles get so sore. Are they trying to tell me to stop? Are they just in shock from being used in this manner on a more regular basis and adjusting to the impact and strain? Once they become less sore, are they healing and stronger? Physiologically, this interests me. Of course I wish that running would suddenly give me strong, shapely legs, but I know I'm kidding myself. I always come back to the words of trainer Krista: "Building muscle is like prying each meaty cell loose from the jaws of a slobbery dog that likes the taste of steak. It doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't happen in a week. You may see it in a month... or three." (I love her whole site, by the way.)
For the past two mornings, I have run on the treadmill next to an elderly man who walks slowly while hooked up to an oxygen tank. I admire him a whole hell of a lot. The people who spray sticky sweat all over the treadmills and floor and don't bother cleaning up after themselves? I admire them not at all.
(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)
I tried to go a little faster since it was only a two-miler, and my calves protested. I kept running because I guess some pain is inevitable. Post-run, it is my shins giving me trouble, but I plan to soldier on. I know that I need to spend more time after the run stretching out these sore spots, but it's hard to do that in the morning because I'm rushing around like a maniac. Hopefully once Daylight Saving Time ends and it's lighter outside earlier, I can do some of these morning runs outside and save myself some driving time. This is all very fascinating, I know.
I've been contemplating just what is happening when my muscles get so sore. Are they trying to tell me to stop? Are they just in shock from being used in this manner on a more regular basis and adjusting to the impact and strain? Once they become less sore, are they healing and stronger? Physiologically, this interests me. Of course I wish that running would suddenly give me strong, shapely legs, but I know I'm kidding myself. I always come back to the words of trainer Krista: "Building muscle is like prying each meaty cell loose from the jaws of a slobbery dog that likes the taste of steak. It doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't happen in a week. You may see it in a month... or three." (I love her whole site, by the way.)
For the past two mornings, I have run on the treadmill next to an elderly man who walks slowly while hooked up to an oxygen tank. I admire him a whole hell of a lot. The people who spray sticky sweat all over the treadmills and floor and don't bother cleaning up after themselves? I admire them not at all.
(This entry was moved over from a separate running blog.)
posted by eliza @ 7:24 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home