26.2
It was pitch black and pouring as I drove to Santa Monica at 6:30 this morning for my 26.2 mile run. It was the kind of rain LA gets only once or twice a year. I was convinced I was crazy and that no one would be there.
“I’ll just drop by in case someone is there and tell them I won’t be running today. After all, no sane person would attempt to run in this weather,” I thought. Apparently runners are a little crazy. All ten of us showed up, despite the downpour, shivering and wearing garbage bags to stay dry. It was the first time I felt like a real runner.
Fortunately, the sky miraculously cleared up and we were able to complete the run in beautiful weather. I’d secretly hoped for as much during my drive, but was still stunned when it happened. I was expecting to be wet and miserable during the run, and likely sick afterwards, but aside from dodging massive puddles, it was perfect. And unlike the 22 mile run, when my body shut down during the last two miles, I felt great the entire time today and finished feeling like there were still a couple of miles in me. Yay!
(Sorry, I know some of you hate my “I love running” posts. Please feel free to skip reading this one! Although I guess if you’ve already made it this far, it’s too late. If it makes you feel any better, the running high’s gone and I’m limping and a little miserable right now!)
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