Back to Running

I did two things last night after work: voted and ran. And let that be the last time I mention the former of the two on this blog for a few years. There has been far too much of the former and much too little of the latter these past couple posts, and not nearly enough boozing to make up for either grievance. Out with the former, back to the latter. And not to be confused by a ladder. Let the latter be the ladder that lifts us from the vast wasteland of the former, for the former is far too formal for this sacred channel of communication. Let us toast the return of the latter and let us ... shit. What was I talking about?

My pickled little brain coughed up a memory yesterday while I was in the middle of a lightpole-to-lightpole interval. My leg twinged, alerting me to back off the pace, but that sensation reminded me of another peculiar feeling I had this year.

The pain and location is not exactly the same, but considering I ran a half marathon and two full marathons since that first pain, it seems logical that the two are related.

The sensation thrice announced itself during my three-mile run. I replied with a sharp, inhaled breath and "auch!" Then we returned to our regularly scheduled stride.

I was curious to see how this painful call and response would affect my pace, but alas my timing skills were inadequate. I couldn't for the life of me find my running watch. Occasionally, I take my watch to work so I can waste some time geeking to my splits. I decided I must have left it there. No matter. I remembered my cell phone has a stop watch function.

I stepped out of my lair and started the stop watch. Then I closed my phone (it's a flip phone) and stuck it in my vest pocket where it bounced around and generally annoyed me throughout the run.

When I approached my stopping point, I pulled my phone out. The stop watch had taken its name too literally. It had stopped.

It appears that the stop watch will only function if the face of the phone is open. How inconvenient. Thank you, Samsung.

The good news is that my leg doesn't hurt. It still just barks at random intervals. It doesn't affect my stride, but it seems less happy when I'm pretending to be fast.

I spent the night lounging on my couch and watching the election results. I paired my pundits with Liberty Ale. No matter what your political views, I hope you can revel in the complete void of campaign ads today. Now, we can all get back to life.

It's nice to be back to reality.



I'm the Viper, and I approve this message.

[Drunkard's note: Oh, and my watch was found. Thank you. It was cleverly hidden on the floor of my kitchen by the door where I passed it on my way out for my run.]