Have you ever run a mile without your heels touching the ground? It’s a weird experience. And a calf-killer too.
Last night, I was obliged to run at Kasia’s pace, to show her the mile route I had worked out around our new place. As it involved a few side streets, She didn’t want to get lost, and asked that I run along side her. There’s just one issue – Her pace is significantly slower than mine.
We’ve tried running together before, with disastrous results. I left her after about twenty seconds, and felt guilty for my entire run after. Another time, we left together, only for me to lap her twice, which must have been disheartening for her.
Anyway, running at her pace last night was difficult for me, as my natural inclination is to go much faster. So, I began running on my toes and the balls of my feet. My heels didn’t touch the ground for the entire first mile, which was completed in 10 minutes.
As we cross the line (well, passed our front door), Kasia told me she’d had enough, and headed in. It was like I was suddenly released, and took off, much too fast. The second lap was completed in a little over six minutes. Way too fast.
I slowed down for the third, completing in 7:10, and decided to stay out for a fourth. The last mile was done in exactly 7:30, and I felt like I could have run all night.
You know when you get into a rhythm, and you can just keep running? Yeah, that’s how it was. Not in the zone, per se, but just feeling good about the run. I was tempted to stay out for a fifth, but thought better of it. I’m still easing my way back in, and conscious of overdoing it so close to the race (Now just some six weeks or so away).
I collapsed into the flat, suddenly very tired. I tend to overheat very quickly as soon as I stop running (not something I’ve ever noticed with anyone else, strangely), but was soon back up, cooking a tempeh bolognese for dinner…
However, this morning, my calves are killing me. I think it might be a couple of days before they forgive me for running on my toes.
The Trials Of Trevor 
I’m the slow one and my hubby is the fast one. When I’m going too slow for him he asks me if I mind if he goes on at a faster pace. He doesn’t have to ask for permission, but it is always nice to be asked/informed.
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