Eight Miles by the Hardest


Here’s what I was thinking about on Saturday morning as soon as I woke up.

  • I’m registered for a December 5 half marathon
  • I have a pulled leg muscle and sore knees from hyper-extending one of them and falling on the other
  • I was supposed to run eight miles
  • I can’t do this

Over the years I have learned to accept life on life’s terms (most of the time), so I had to come up with a plan to safely cover eight miles while recovering from an injury. Here’s what I did.

  • I walked/jogged three and a half miles in the nearby neighborhood where my new gym is located.
  • I went to the gym and did three and a half miles on the elliptical trainer to give my pulled muscle a break. Then I did a half mile on the treadmill.
  • I walked the half mile home.

Add it up, and you get eight miles. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than sitting on the couch and missing a training session.

The ugly training sessions take more out of me that do the pretty ones. I wanted to quit at so many points along the way on Saturday. I had to fight light crazy to push away the negativity and keep moving forward. I was plenty sore afterward, but somewhere in the midst of all that soreness I was grateful that for some reason I finished the task.

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