Lying on my stomach, unaware of what was about to occur, my life seemed calm. It was calm, then, in a matter of nanoseconds my pain-o-meter shot from zero to threshold and proceeded to redline. I tried to breath, hoping the pain would subside, surely it would subside? The second time was only worse, I knew what was coming; without realizing I’d pushed myself up into an arch, the perfect cobra. And, I was paying for this. I received my second ART session today. D’Arcy laid into my calves, as if she was a starving child trying to squeeze the last morsel of chocolate icing from a tube. I’m not sure how long the sitting was, but it seemed an eternity. The first time she manipulated me was days before the Comox Half-marathon and since then I don’t remember having the twinge in my hamstring… I guess I’ll take the good with the bad.
My run this afternoon felt liberating, although I’d gone 12 rounds in a title fight, at least I won; my stride length seemed elongated, even a fraction of an inch over 26 miles would make a difference. I ran a variation of Thursday’s route, building into it after 25’. I felt smooth, relaxed, not quite as good as last time but good nonetheless.
P.s. Jim, I owe you yet another pint…
Training: a progressive run, 1:04:16