Saturday’s long run was one of those runs that I think can be defined as being “banged out.” There was no high point or low point, but pretty consistent splits throughout and I felt strong.
I ran my usual Central Park/Riverside Park loops, and even though it’s familiar to me and I love it, I am getting a little sick of its predictability. Sometimes running feels easier when I have no idea where I’m going or exploring a new place. Good thing next weekend’s long run will take place in the Bronx!
When I got home, I did the usual stretching, refueling: fresh peach, grapes, walnuts and honey over Greek yogurt
And ice bathing:
Since I’m far too cheap to buy bags of ice each week, I usually just fill the tub with cold water and ice from about 5 trays that I have. It melts a little quicker, but I think it still does the trick. My legs felt a lot less sore all day and I was able to walk around NYC like a fully functional human being.
Recently, Meggie and I discovered our mutual love for gymnastics. We were both gymnasts for many years and keep up on the sport as much as we can, so we made grand plans to watch the national championships at my apartment on Saturday night.
We needed to get our 16 Handles fix. Obviously.
It was awesome to hang with someone that “got” gymnastics, and just watching it on TV brought back tons of old memories.
On my recovery run this morning, I was still thinking about the competition and how gymnastics was once a HUGE part of my life.
I never thought I would love any sport as much as I loved gymnastics.
I also thought I’d always be able to do a round-off, back handspring, double-full. HA.
But gymnastics isn’t a sport you can do forever. It basically beats the crap out of you.
It’s funny how cough eleven cough years can change things. Even though the sport taught me a lot and I have (mostly) great memories from it, sometimes I forget I ever was a gymnast.
And interestingly, sometimes it feels like I’ve always been a runner, and I can’t imagine loving a sport any more than I love running.
It’s a different kind of love, though. With gymnastics, I was good. My goal was always to be perfect and win. And I did. Part of my love for the sport came from the medals, trophies and success I had.
With running, I’m pretty sure I’ll never win. Or come close to winning. In fact, the only person that probably cares that I run at all is me.
And I kind of love that. I can run for enjoyment, I can run to PR in a race, I can train hard for a marathon. I can run for whatever the hell reason I want. And I usually always want to run.
So even though running is something I’ll never technically “excel” at, it makes me feel awesome every day. And if winning against myself counts, then I do it multiple times per week 🙂
Question: Is running your first sport? Why do you run?