Today I ran my first taper run of 10.73 miles.
First, in the mantra of Bugs Bunny I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and added a half mile to my route. Mercifully today’s weather was fair, so to get caught up in the joy of sun didn’t faze me as much as it would’ve in the past.
Second, I ran into two people who will be joining me on the Rome Marathon. These are hardcore O.U.C.C.C. runner’s, so I use the term “join” loosely, it’s more like blitz past me in a blur of blue and white. As I was going along the backside of Port Meadow (where I finally ran by the Trout for the very first time) they yell greetings to me. And then it happened:
“How far you going today, Cristin?”
“Oh, just a short 10 miler.”
We waved each other on and I continued to jog forth when the words rang in my head, “Oh, just a short 10 miler.”
I said that. Out loud. A. Short. TEN MILES.
Never in my life would I ever think, while crossing a country path leading from a village into Oxford, I would wave greetings to another set of people and spout that it was a nice day to run TEN MILES. Nor, would I have ever thought it was such a nice day it was PERFECTLY SANE to add another .5 miles on just for the hell of it. To be honest had my brain not been telling me that I need to take it slow and ensure I don’t injure myself I may have run another few miles for grins and giggles.
I suppose the conversion into long distance runner is now apparent. There is no turning back. Six miles next week, I hope I don’t go nuts and turn it into sixteen!
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