Tonight I'm sitting on the couch, my legs stretched out in front of me, each foot ensconced in a slightly worn Hotel Catalonia slipper, a souvenir from a trip to Mexico a couple of years ago. Whenever I shift in my seat, a dull soreness traces up and down my legs, and if I try to stand, I'm met with a reluctant protest from my lower half. To watch me rise to my feet, you'd think I was double my age. The pain however, is a good pain, not born of injury, but rather the "reward" for a day's training.
Earlier this afternoon, I pushed through my weekly long run with the help of i-Tunes, my hydra pack, and late January weather that was downright balmy compared to my long runs the previous two weeks. The run was a mere 23 miles, which is well short of ultra status, but still long enough. I felt pretty damn good through the first 20 miles. The last three, completed primarily on sidewalk, were the roughest, as my drop in pace would attest.
It actually doesn't matter how far I ran, so much as how long. My training in this first part of the year is in preparation for a 24 hour race, so today's run only accounted for about a sixth, of what I'll try to accomplish in April. I've got some time between now and then to stretch the hours, and the mileage.
With any luck, a few weeks from now, my long runs will extend to 6 hours, and the ground covered today will seem like small stuff. For now, I'll just sit back and enjoy the soreness.
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