Saturday, August 17, 2013
Since getting back to Virginia, I've really been struggling to find time for training runs. Between unpacking the new house, wrangling the high-energy GW and fully-mobile GV and dealing with knee pain, things just haven't been falling into place for me to hit the trails. Unfortunately, with only a handful of weeks left before the Marine Corp Marathon (Oct 27), I can't really afford to be missing as many runs as I am, but it is what it is and I've at least got running on my to-do list... that burns calories, right?
Each week HB and I should be running four days, with short runs on Tuesdays and Fridays, medium runs on Thursdays and long runs on Sundays. Lately we've done our short(-) distances on Tuesdays (thank God for RWB because it is at least one run we do consistently) and the occasional distance run when we randomly feel guilty about having missed our Sunday run goals. Today was one of those days. Last week we completely missed our 10 mile run when we drove back from Vermont (does 10+ hours in the car count?), so today we made a point to get out for tomorrow's 11 miler BEFORE we had an opportunity to miss it.
We went over to the Mount Vernon Trail along the GW Parkway next to the Potomac River in NOVA and, aside from being a bit longer of a run than pleasant, it was a great outing. Holding roughly a 9:30ish pace, we loped along the trail and randomly raced a family with two under-10 kids on bikes between water fountains. By mile 9, both HB and I were feeling the distance and we were lapped for the last time by our young competitors who patiently waited at their car for a good-natured "na-na-na-na-boo-boo" in triumph. Having managed to finish our desired distance despite pain and a sincere dislike of energy-goo, we accepted our defeat and happily congratulated the future Tour De France champions on their resounding victory. While they might not be in our competitive age group, those two were an excellent reminder that finishing far outweighs winning -- after all, I'm running for me not for any competitive necessity. Even if that means I'm thoroughly walloped by an 8 year old.