If you had asked me more than a decade ago what the number eleven meant to me I would have said The Elevens. A music venue where I was trying to get my favorite band booked. Back then I was all about this unsigned band. I was all about tours and gigs and set lists of this unsigned band. I was rabid about getting the unsigned seen.
Fast forward to 2015. The unsigned band is no longer a band. They have become a (signed!) dynamic duo and I have signed off on being their biggest fan. They are doing fine without me. The word eleven now mean something completely different. Eleven as in 11.15 miles. 11.15 was the total mileage for last night’s run. 11 mph was the slow and steady pace I ran for two hours and two minutes. Albeit a rocky start, I finished the run rock steady.
Sunday began like most every other Sunday. Coffee and Cassidy in bed. She under the tented blankets, curled around my bent legs. Me with my fingers curled around a steaming cup of coffee, turning the pages of a good book (a Batya Gur murder mystery). I admit, it was hard to concentrate despite the idyllic morning. My mind kept returning to the run…would I run outside and if so where? How much time would I need? What would I wear? We were supposed to get snow. When it was all said and done none of those questions mattered. I was inside and it was well after 4pm. Hello New Guinea. Remember the rocky start? It began as soon as I wanted to get dressed. No clean bras. They were all in the dryer, every last one of them. So I started the first three miles in (very) unsupportive cotton. I’m small, but not so small that I can go without. Not completely. Stop #1 was to change bras after 3.2 miles. Stop #2 was to change shoes after 4.5 miles. [I’m breaking in new kicks and refuse to run more than five at a time until I get them where I want ’em.] Stop #3 at mile 7.5 was a pee break. At this point I thought for sure I was never going to get all eleven miles finished before it was time to go to bed.
The only good news was that I ran without my security blanket in hand. Normally I run with my iPod firmly grasped in my left hand. I insist it’s so I can change songs quickly but really, truly, I like holding onto something – specifically in my left hand. Don’t ask me why. I just know this because the one time I tried switching the iPod to the right it felt weird. But, last night I was able to run sans iPod in either hand. Kisa hooked me up to Sonos and I was at the mercy of the playlist. Luckily, it was a good one. No fast forward necessary. Favorite song of the night: Lose Yourself by Eminem. “Feet, fail me not.”
The better news is that I am *still* pain-free. Me, myself and moi had a serious convo with the knees, hips and ankles and so far, no one is complaining. The knee growl I heard earlier has been silenced. Tonight’s menu is PT, yoga and maybe a date with Bob. Not sure yet. The run looks like this:
- Tuesday – 6
- Thursday – 6
- Saturday – St. Patrick’s 6.1!