Walking
In lieu of a run, tonight I went for a four-mile walk with the best walking partner around. As I could still feel the remnants of yesterday’s 12-miles in my thighs and calves, my leisurely conversation with Jessie made for a much more pleasurable route down Eisenhower Ave. than I could have expected if I tried to run through the discomfort. So while I completed four miles tonight at a significantly slower pace than usual, four miles is four miles no matter how quickly you cover it. Walking also provided reassurance of something that I’ve long been told but only recently embraced. There is no shame in walking. My race day strategy - expertly conveyed by Jessie’s Uncle - will be to walk through each and all of the water stations, mixing in 15 seconds of walking every two miles to drink (after the first six miles), with the hard running that I’ll do in the interim. I’m proud, but reasonable - and I’ll have no shame in walking as I hydrate.
Sounds like good old fashioned common sense. Love to you and Jess.