The early part of the year is always a fun time for running. I get to say things like, "my fastest run of the year" or "my longest run" or "toughest" or what have you, as long as there is an "-est" suffix.
Last night, I went out for my longest run of the year, a whopping six-miler, which broke my previous longest just set on Sunday.
Personal scheduling changes forced me to switch up my previous pattern of three four-milers during the work week, and now I'm shooting for two six-milers to make up the difference as I get myself back into racing shape.
This change made Sand Run my best option, but that meant returning to the slow, snowy park trail. The crushed limestone surface was anything but solid. My footing was either soft and muddy or soft and slushy.
My YakTrax kept me upright, but my pace was dreadfully slow. I cracked 10 minutes per mile only once, and even then just barely (9:57). I am so ready for this season to be over and get back to better running terrain, but I know February is just around the corner.