It Feels Like the First Time

Do you remember your first long-run? Not one of those lengthy slogs (accidental or otherwise) that returned you back to the house questioning why you went out in the first place. But your first planned proper long-run, once you knew what a long-run was. I don’t remember mine but I do recall the feeling in my legs afterwards; my jaunt this weekend brought that memory screaming back.

After a week of light drizzle and dull skies, we met Sunday morning under cloudless conditions and a beaming (20C) sun. With Ian returning from injury and Hicham enduring the tail end of Ramadan, I assumed the company was akin to my fitness level. I was mistaken.

Regardless, Ian played tour guide on what is officially my new favourite run in the Victoria area. The hills were relentless as the route was beautiful and there wasn’t a level meter (3 ft.) out there. We traversed trails that only deer might use, jogged along roads that reminded me of England and hills, hills that would make Boston seem flat. And the best/unfortunate piece, depending on your condition… everything was runable. My legs ache.

Training:
Saturday: 55:25 with 4x5’ tempo (2’)
Sunday: undulating 1:39:23