Okay, for those uninterested in my running posts I promise pictures of the 4th and the beach are a coming. Downloading and uploading take time people.
Last week we were at the beach and I fell short of my 30 mile minimum goal.
Weekly miles: 28
Items found: little extra belly flab, a tan, some liver corrosion
I ran Sun, Mon, Tues, Wed and Fri avg 4-6 miles a day-- 5 1/2 miles one day on the beach. That did a number on my quads. Learned my lesson: Running on the beach is beautiful but painful. Sand is hard. Very hard. Like a reverse jack hammer on your joints.
Not a bad week though considering it was hot and I was hungover and I was, after all, on vacation. Really, I am just trying to justify it to myself. I hate not meeting my goals, whatever the reason. I had to take Thur off from an injury though.
What injury you may wonder? Well, . . .
I have this brilliant habit of when I drink copious amounts of alcohol that I think it is always a good idea to entertain and impress my friends. Entertain? Impress? How you might wonder? Well, by showing off my flexibility and doing a few cheerleader jumps, of course. What else.
This does always prove to entertain but rarely does it impress. My coordination sadly is never highlighted. And worse, I almost always manage to injury myself in the process. But as I think I pointed out here that I feel someone needs to be that person at the party.
You'd think I'd listen to Ryan as he pleads quietly, "please don't do this Nat." Do I listen? No, of course not.
This time was no different. After one of my really spectacular jumps I came down a bit harder than I was expecting to on the ball of my right foot. Barefoot. On the tile floor.
Immediately I knew it wasn't good and iced it but it ached and was tender to the touch. Thursday morning it was purple and swollen. I was afraid I had cracked the bone and ruined my marathon training schedule but after a few beers and a day of rest and ice it felt better. It only hurt a little on Friday when I went for a run and it didn't bother me at all today so I guess it was just a bruise.
But my days of drunken stunts are over. I swear. Well, you know, unless someone requests to see my aerial or back-walkover or splits or toe-touch, then maybe I could be persuaded.