Mark suggested a short run to knock out a few kinks as well as give me an idea whether or not I could handle 26.2 next week in KC. I went to bed with the notion that I'd run two quick miles in the morning. When I woke after a decent night's rest (thank you, Benadryl), I put the number "four" in my mind and decided to tackle my favorite hilly route. And though my stride was shorter than usual and the bruise that sits at the top of my left hip complained with each and every step, my legs were in heaven. As I approached the spot where I normally turn to head home, my brain, legs and bruise all had a serious talk. And while the bruise posed a valid argument, my brain was easily swayed by the highly influential legs who had been planning on a much longer run this morning. I kept going.
By then, the goofy grin across my mouth was wide and sincere. I could totally see running next weekend. I even questioned skipping this morning's marathon (it would have been a bad idea, but I specialize in second guessing myself). I quickly remapped my training plan to squeeze a long-ish run into the next few days.
While my legs would have gone on awhile longer, I knew it would be foolish to go too far. I also was without fuel or hydration, so I wrapped my run at just shy of six miles.
I'm icing my back right now and mentally preparing for a hillier trek than I'd anticipated during those long weeks of training. And while it would have been fun to speed past a high school classmate or two on Route 66, I'm envisioning accepting a few more high-fives from the locals that make this life of mine so very fabulous and interesting when I run that marathon next weekend.
Don't stop me now...