Training Week #21

There are only 7 weeks left until Race Day. And I think I may have finally gotten over the hurty-hump.

There have been many, many hurdles. Like the weirdo leg pain that's been a constant burden since mid-June, making it difficult to drive, walk, and even sleep. I went through 2 different pairs of shoes to try to correct the problem, invested in custom orthotics, saw countless medical professionals to determine the right course of recovery, and gave my body over to a sadist of a massage therapist who beat the shit out of me on Tuesday.

Finally, someone suggested wrapping my leg while running. Two months of trying to figure this out and then the simplest of remedies becomes my life-saver. I ran 4 miles on Friday night, and then went out drinking. I woke up with a headache the next morning, but none of the leg hell I was expecting. I almost thought I'd had a transplant.

Today I did 9 miles--slowly--and all wrapped up like a mummy. Then hit a bottle of Cytomax like it was tequila-flavored Gatorade.

And I feel fucking fantastic. It's been a very, very, VERY long time since I was able to say that sans the assistance of something alcoholic. Now I'm thinking I'll actually be able to handle my event like a pro.

I just have to raise another $1,000. But that's a worry for another day. Today I get to enjoy my small triumph over the aches and pains.

It's also my favorite whisky-lovin' blogger's 35th birthday. Go on over and wish our Jack a good one. He deserves it.