I forgot that I had signed up for Army Ten Miler.
I'd meant to sell my registration, but I missed the window. I figured I might as well go, walk part of the course, throw in a mile or two of running. Then I'd make like Rosie Ruiz and hop on the metro around mile 5 and meet Tom at the end.
(Last week, my PT told me I should try running, and see how it went. So I tried 2.25 miles on Friday and I felt pretty darn good.)
The sun was shining. The air was cool. It was a glorious, I'm-glad-to-be-alive day. I had forgotten how much fun and energy there is at a huge road race (30,000 runners!).
|On the Army Ten Miler course|
I kept expecting to tire. I paid close attention to my body. Aside from a couple of random tingles in my leg, which vanished before I could be sure they were real, I felt great. I had to keep reigning it in. I enjoyed the slower pace, the people watching, the pass and be passed game. I felt like I could go forever.
I passed the metro station without a second glance.
As I rounded the corner at Mile 8, I noticed the only sign I'd been out of the running game for nearly three months: my feet were just a bit tender from all the plodding on pavement.
I can't even remember the last long run I did, sometime in July. That "muscle memory" stuff? Turns out there's something to that!
Here's hoping my bulging disc isn't too mad at me.