Running (or How I Crippled Myself)

Probably due to the inspiration of seeing our good friends Joe and Liz go for a run before breakfast while staying with us this past weekend, Sue and I decided that it'd be fun if we went for a trail run at Green Lakes on Saturday. The air was cool and damp, and it felt great to be out running on the soft trail. Well, that is, it felt great for about one and a half miles.

Now, please realize that I believe the last time I went for a real run was during soccer practice - eighteen years ago. Sure, I've been racing a bicycle for fifteen of those years, but there are all sorts of little muscles you don't use on the bike that get pounded while running. Halfway around the lakes, I began to feel that something was going to snap if I didn't start walking. I alternated between walking and running for the remainder of the three-mile path. By the end, my legs felt nicely tenderized, and it really was great to be out on a pleasant trail in the fresh air with Sue (who, by the way, kicked my butt and ran much more of the trail than I did).

Sunday, old memories of soccer practice came flooding in. Back then, I'd attend the late-August practices and run miles and barely be able to walk the next day. This was much the same, except far less exercise was required to elicit a similar response.