Now that it’s the popsicle-eating time of year, I have some important decisions to make.
Not being chained to a training plan has many amazing side effects, the first of which that “Becky’s build-a-butt workshop” is finally starting to pay off as evidenced here by a candid shot Youngest took yesterday as I was frantically packing lunches for a school field trip.
I just wanted to show you guys that after five weeks of rehab, strength training and obvious form concentration (which has given me new lines on my forehead), I now sort of look like I am running when I am running.
Slowly, over the last few weeks, I have been increasing my mileage. My first week back after a two-week post-Boston-marathon-no-running break, I logged about 22 miles. Last week I pushed that up to around 32. And this week I hope to make it to 40.
The single best thing that came out of my chiropractor visit yesterday was that I was reminded what my absolute dream job would be: columnist for Shouts and Murmurs.
If everyday were mother’s day I’m pretty sure I could by an Olympic marathoner.
MFP and I went on our last weekday run together today.
Yesterday as I was noting how amazing it feels to run six miles per day do strength work and perform all of my other house and work-related duties without falling apart mentally or physically by 8:30 p.m., I had this idea that I might be on to something.
(Preferred title: Becky’s build-a-butt workshop. However, I didn’t want to scare anyone away.)
First of all let us all heed this advice, which I am finding particularly problematic at the moment considering that just yesterday I had an official runner’s meltdown out on a trail where you could hear my hiccups and bawling for miles and miles.