I woke up to pouring rain and the prospect of a long run with friends. Had I not been so motivated by my week-long streak, I hesitate to admit I might have just slept in.
As I round out the first full week of my (underdetermined timeline of) daily running, I admit that it didn’t amount to much besides the effort. At the end of it, I clocked a meagre total of 40.2 klicks in seven sessions, Monday through Sunday. If I add in the two short runs I did leading into this week, the last nine days amounts to closer to fifty, but whose counting?
Well... I am.
The week was a mix of short weekday runs, mostly nestled into the busy work-week schedule. A few lunch runs and a couple evening runs (one with friends at a meetup location.) The weekend was capped off with a pair of rainy, wet trail-ish runs: Saturday solo through the north end of the local creek trails, and Saturday a neighbourhood run that dipped into the opposite end of the same creek with a visit to the graffiti-splattered pass under the freeway. Nothing shorter than 20 minutes. The longest, an 11 klick run with wet, dirty feets.
My goal (unstated until now) is to add two klicks per week to the cumulative total... which coincidentally enough clocks me at (at least) a perfect marathon for week two.
Feels-wise, apart from some stiffness in my legs and back after the week (nothing some stretching doesn’t help) the compound effects of daily running seem to be fostering a renewed energy in both my body and my spirit. It’s as though I’d actually needed this.
Now if only my one-last-still-uncancelled-race would just bite the bullet and admit that it ain’t happening during a pandemic so I can settle into a summer of training for the virtual races which actually will go forward. Inevitability is a pain in the ass.