Tired Legs

Oy, Rhetorician. Where are you going with the 'awe', little or otherwise? Are you kidding me with your 600kms in 2011?

And, if it's any consolation, my legs are exhausted this evening. I have run 18 miles over the last three days and yet, I'm only half way through my mileage for the week. I have to run 18 more on Saturday which I find completely baffling because this evening, these legs are a tonne weight, just heavy wooden appendages to the end of my torso. I had planned to do some stretching, some yoga moves. Forget it! It's time to be still, real still. I might even sleep early. It's purely my legs. I feel good otherwise. I could feel myself getting slower and slower all day. The distance between the Newman Building and Ag Science seemed an almost impossible feat. As for the car, parked by the Sports Centre, I wondered could I get a lift? And speaking of lifts, someone was just coming out of the lift at the ground floor as I was going up to the second floor, at some stage today. You guessed it. In I popped and took the lift up to the second floor. I felt such a cheat, but it was worth it.  To add to my list of activities induced by tiredness ... those Rockie Roads in the Arts Block Café are gross! I love sweet, but these ... tired, depleted as I was, I couldn't finish it.  I'd been looking at them for weeks, wondering would I have one, on some really tired four o'clock time? That's now crossed off the list. For good!

Ok. That's my confession over for the day. I am a tired runner, not anxious or upset, but comically wondering how these legs are going to take me through 18 miles next Saturday morning. It will be hilarious! I should sell tickets! But, do you know, I've made up my mind to take it handy, treat it light, walk/run if I have to. I will do the miles, but I'm not going to worry about form. I have a week of recovery then and I will be more effortful(?) for the following extra-long run.  Really, there has to be a bit of sense in this too. I'll treat it with a bit of humour and lightness, I think. If you hear reports of an awkward, slow runner laughing to herself in the Park over the weekend ... maybe for the weekend (!!!) ... you'll know who it is. 

I was going to write all kinds of things here this evening, but it just wouldn't work. I'll let it go.  Just to say that, I've been thinking a lot about Etty, and about another friend who is currently in Cappagh Hospital for the umpteenth time this year - a Dad of two. Thinking about his wife too, of course. I've been thinking about a lot of people really.   I can't say I pray for these people, much, anymore. It's more a realisation that life can be strange, tough, and most unfair at times.  Sometimes, I'm plotting a visit or wondering if I can help. Sometimes, I'm just thinking of ye.  There are all kinds of marathons and ultra-marathons. In the most indirect ways,  we can inspire courage and offer solidarity.  After all, this amateur athlete runs, not only for pleasure, but to maintain friends with some of her own ghosts.