Today my training partner and I set out to run 9 or 10 miles. We got up at the crack of dawn (my alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday… yikes!) and kicked off our run with a group of other crazy individuals around 6:00.
Neither of us knew the course, which wound its way through the ritzy neighborhoods of Fort Worth, an area I don’t typically frequent. The rest of our group wanted to run 12, and when it was time for us to separate and set off on our own for the “shorter” 9-mile run, the directions they gave us were so complicated that we knew there was a 99.99 percent chance we would get lost. The thought of roaming the neighborhoods of Fort Worth, forcing ourselves to run further than we wanted to, was daunting, so we gave in to the peer pressure and did 12 with the rest of the group.
My legs have never been so tired in my entire life. However tired I have been before, I can multiply that by two, and that’s how tired my poor little legs were at the end of TWELVE miles. But it’s also really cool to say I’ve now run TWELVE miles. Gee whiz, that’s a really long way.
My favorite part of group runs is the breakfast celebration afterward. Eating pastries, or waffles, or sausage, or anything else that’s unhealthy is so much fun after you have burned 1200 calories.
The other good thing about getting up early to go for a long run is the LOOOOONG nap you get to take afterward. Sigh. That part is good too.