After the run

Leaving aside sex, the California sunshine in January, and an exquisite meal like the suckling pig at Cliff’s Edge, there’s not much that beats the post-run feeling. That feeling has been hard to come by for me, as of late. So when I do get it, I notice.

My speed (imagined)

My speed (imagined)

This week I truly tested my healing knee—as well as my leg speed and stamina and form. I got on the Alter-G at Select PT for a pretty tough 4-mile workout. (Quick shout-out to my amazing therapist there, Chris Gerona. He is the best. And I mean that literally.) Running at 55% of my body weight, I warmed up at 9-minute pace. Then I ran a pace at marathon pace: 6:55. Next mile: half marathon pace, or 6:25. Then the final mile I ran sub-6, which I’d like to maintain on the 5K one day.

I think I was sweating and smiling like a maniac, so happy to be moving at that speed. Worried, one of the PT’s came by to check in on me. “How are you,” he asked. “EXCELLENT,” I yelled.

Yesterday and today my legs felt sore. The good sore. The soreness of muscles working, adjusting, and craving another run. That’s the feeling I’m talking about.


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