I broke my promise to myself and worked out Tuesday night. I did some light cross training. I started with a mile run, progressed to some isolated cardio/weight bearing leg exercises, and then finished with isolated cardio/weight bearing ab exercises.
The next morning I felt fine, no sluggishness in that old hip flexor, so I stretched a bit in my desk chair at work. It seems I might have stretched a bit too much or too far. Perhaps injury from the mile jog took a day to realize itself again.
Hell's Hills is exactly what it sounds like. Maybe 40 other women have registered for the 10K, and last year's winning time was approx 54 minutes. I know which names to watch out for. I'm chomping at the bit to be in the top ten. I want to tear up the trails. I can, even on this bum leg, but it will cost me.
I want to jump off the rocks and fly forward, push up the hills like there's no tomorrow. I want to see the tall pines zip by my peripheral vision and be the one to call "Left!" to the 25k runners who start 15 minutes before the 10K group. As a long distance runner, I'm always stepping off for the short distancers. My shortest trail competition has been 18k, and you just can't lay it all out. You have to conserve. LET ME OUT! LET ME FLY A 10K!!!
I've run plenty of street 5K's and 10K's with lots of crowds and hard pavement. The feeling is completely different. The exhilaration is pulled from the audience excitement and the huge sponsorship. There is some thrill in hearing the runners' soft street tennies pounding rhythm on the pavement.
Give me my trail shoes with their steel plate and reinforced toe. The bottom tread is like a car tire, ready to grip any surface and propel me into any motion I choose. My heavy, muddy shoes want me.
I want to run. RUN!