I was up at 5am to run. You might call this out of character for me.
I am not a morning person.
Having an adorable little girl who likes to wake with the sun, I’ve dealt and put on a puffy-eyed happy face for her sake, but this is taking it to another level.
It was pitch black when I hit the pavement. It might as well have been 10 o’clock at night. But I was charged.
I had my running shoes and clothes laid out. I put in my contacts, changed quickly, tied back my hair, all while a very excited 105 pound dog danced at my feet. (I chose Gracie as my running companion simply because I didn’t want to reward bad behavior, having discovered Budaj standing in the backyard chatting–and by “chatting,” I mean barking and occasionally howling back and forth with the Huskies across the fence.)
I did my brisk warm up and started my first running spurt. I was feeling good. The minute was going by quickly and I felt strong. I slowed to do my 2 minute walk, thinking how I expected the sidewalk at least to be better lit, for safety’s sake. Then I continued my internal conversation: “Yeah, but you have a huge dog with you. If some creepy person is going to attack someone, they’d probably be looking for someone with a pipsqueak dog. Gracie would protect you…just look at when you tripped and split open your knee, she put herself between you and the street. She’d snarl and attack anyone who was a threat so really, you…”
:insert pebble in my path and my shoe sliding: “…Oh s*&%…” (Yes, sometimes I do use profanities in my internal dialogue.) :my right ankle folds underneath me and I hear a CRACK:
A few things went through my mind simultaneously:
1) “Did I just break my $&%$&#^$&%# ankle?” (Don’t try to figure out what the jibberish is. I also grumble profanities in my internal dialogue and it often gets jumbled together.)
2) “That’s my $&%$&#^$&%# ankle I had surgery on. It’s supposed to be stronger with the screws. What if the $&%$&#^$&%# screws got pulled out of whack?”
3) “$&%$&#^$&%#$&%$&#^$&%#!!! Figures this would be just when I start a running training program. Of course, why wouldn’t it be.”
4) “Um, how am I going to get home? Gracie might be big, but I can’t exactly ride on her back.”
I started moving, gently walking/limping forward. Because I needed to get home regardless. Hubs couldn’t leave Little sleeping at home to come get me and I wasn’t going to have him wake her up to pick up my sorry butt off the sidewalk a few streets from our house. It didn’t feel right, but it wasn’t broken. Ultimately, I kept going. I ran even. This is entirely truth–Gracie decided about 1/3 of the way through the session that she didn’t want to run anymore. So we walked home from where we were and called it a day. We were gone about 35 minutes and I ran about 5 mins total. I guess I’ll take it. I mean it’s 5 mins more than I’ve run since the spring. I felt good, you know, other than the stupid ankle incident, but I didn’t feel like I was dying. I did better than I did when I first tried running in the spring. Completing the other 2/3 of the session probably would have killed me (I might be exaggerating.) and I’m disappointed I didn’t complete the whole thing, BUT I did prove that I can get up at 5am and get it done. I CAN make time.
I also reconfirmed that I do have a fear of the dark. Only now I have the added reason that there are stealth pebbles sent to destroy me hiding in the shadows.
I much prefer daylight.
Oh and the ankle is swollen and aching. I have it wrapped up in an ace bandage today and it just so happens to be detox bath night so it’ll get treated to an epsom salt soak.
I’ll play it by ear for the running sessions this week. If the ankle’s better, I’ll be back at it in a couple days. If it’s not, well, I’ll start hopefully next week. It’ll still allow me to finish up the training in time to do the New Year’s Day race.
These things are all the rage on Pinterest and mild to moderately irritating, but oh well.
I tend to disagree. It should be: “Go for a run and keep calm,” but that doesn’t quite have the same snappiness, now does it?