A week ago I went on a 13-miler around the streets of Bethlehem. I was running at a decent clip, so imagine my surprise when I still felt good at the end. Too good. 13 miles was my longest run of the week– it’s meant to stretch my limits. And finishing that run didn’t leave me feeling adequately challenged. So I decided that I would kick up this week’s long run. Maybe then I would find satisfactory punishment.
Man, did I ever.
I ran 15 miles through an unshoveled, unplowed Bethlehem. I was lifting my knees as high as I could at first to try to hop over the snow. Then I got tired enough that I was just trudging through it, kicking the 6-inch-deep snow in front of my feet. My hips and quads were… well, have you ever tried to use a rubber band that’s been left in the sun? When it’s dried out and covered with cracks? And when you try to stretch it, it kind of crumbles instead of snapping? Yeah, it was like that.Share on Facebook