10.00

So, what have I learned in 1,000 posts about running and endurance sports, and almost 5 years of consistent training?

Apparently, not much:

Left Foot BlisterRight Foot Blister

I’d set out to do 12 miles Saturday after drill. It was warm(ish) – low 40’s instead of low 20’s and kind of overcast, with snow melting furiously on the sidewalks of Newport. I changed, bundled up, and headed towards the door.

Before I’d even left the locker room, I realized I still had on my work socks. My internal conversation went:

Voice 1: “Oh, crap.”

Voice 2: “Hey, self, what’s up?”

Voice 1: “You’ve still got black dress socks on.”

Voice 2: “Oh, crap.”

Voice 1: “So, let’s go put on the good running socks. You’re going to go 12 miles, the sidewalks will be covered in slush. You’ll get blisters if you don’t.”

Voice 2: “But the locker is WAAAY back over there. Like 30 or 40 whole feet.”

Voice 3: “Hey, y’all – let’s go get some ham.”

Voice 1: “Did you invite him? Anyway – blisters. I guarantee it. It’ll take one minute.”

Voice 2: “But we’d have to sit down! And take off the shoes! And tie them again… Come on – you know these shoes fit. They haven’t given us blisters in the 400 miles or so we’ve put on them. As a matter of fact, you haven’t had blisters since last year.” (ed. note – that’s not exactly true – these same shoes gave me blisters at New Haven last year.)

Voice 1: “Dude, it’s wet. It’s salty. You’re going a long way. Wear the darn socks.”

Voice 2: “Screw that. We’re going.”

Voice 1: “But…”

Voice 3: “Are we getting ham?”

And I left.

The run was good. The warm front was blowing in off of the gulf stream – I headed through downtown, onto Spring Street and then Coggelshell, and then got on the south end of the Cliff Walk.

Man, I love that part of it – running on the granite, watching the surf.

Trouble is, Voice 1 was exactly right. The snow and the mud went straight through the Asics, my socks were soaked, and the rubbing started. About mile 7, I was sure I had blisters, and was at least 4 miles out from the gym.

About mile 8, It hit me that this was a completely fitting thing about which to do post 1K. 1,000 or 10.00; all sorts of good stuff.

So, I spent the next two miles meditating on what running has brought me. Thinking about how:

  • I’ll never, ever be able to capture the rage at winter that Jon does
  • Tap into the running network the way that David does
  • Never be as graceful as April Anne.
  • Remembering running on two continents with the Amazing Hip (Speaking of which, hip – how’re you?)
  • Wondering if I can get in a bike ride with The Running Chick with the Orange Hat . And Rudi.
  • I’m happy that I’ve still got twitter to keep up with Susan, who continues to re-invent herself in ways that inspire.
  • And if Warren can learn to swim, and not let winter beat him, it’s not beating me, either. And it, most definitely, is on.

I could continue to go on – the community of running bloggers rocks.

So, thanks, y’all.

One of the things that is cool to me, though, is to see how running/biking/swimming has become a routine part of lives. The arc is great to see, no matter how many times it happens.

So, who’s with me for the next 1,000 posts?

7 thoughts on “10.00

  1. I’m with ya man, in spirit if not in person. Keep writing and I’ll keep reading. Here’s to years of happy healthy blogging!

  2. at the gym yesterday i saw a guy with black socks, i turned my head the other way so he wouldnt catch me laughing. i’m sure he had the same conversation with self as you did.

  3. wow 1,000 posts sounds like a ton. funny internal dialogue, i have a loud voice #3. good times! here’s to another 1,000!

  4. The secret to extensive social networking is to treat the world like one big college dorm. No waiting for invitations. Drop ins encouraged.

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