The countdown is on. T minus 5 days until the big event: my first 5k run. Eeek!
I’ve been at the mercy of my ankle these past two weeks, willing away the persistent pain that has been a result of this running thing. Every night I talk to my pesky ankle, begging aloud, “Please, please be good to me. Just let me finish this challenge and I promise – cross my heart – I will provide you with a lifetime of pampering and underuse. My kids think that I have officially lost my mind. I might have argued their point before my last long run this past weekend but, while heaving through those 3 miles, even I thought I might be losing my mind.
My run started out sketchy, the pain in my ankle forcing me to favor one leg over the other. I kept at it though, knowing that at some point the pain would subside – ya know, once I started panting like a dehydrated dog. But, before the heavy breathing took over, I found myself screaming obscenities – in my head, of course. Ouch. Step. S!*%. Ouch. Step. F*&%. Ouch. Step. You m*!&%….. I’m sure you get the idea.
As the numbing sensation took over, I came up on my first hill. It was a downward sloping hill so it should have been easy – right? Not so much. I’m still trying to perfect the art of taking advantage of downward slopes while avoiding the embarrassment of a full on face plant. My feet want to take off, but I’m terrified of the graceless tumble I’ll undoubtedly take while trying hard to look like that
bitch other runner that passes me by on occasion.
For tonight, I am quite happy with my latest 42 minute 5k and my skilled and dextrous approach to avoiding the face plant.