I blame the old man

SUMMER IS FINALLY HERE! After surviving what felt like the longest winter EVER, summer is finally here. To celebrate, I decided to start things off with a bang- and one of these…

What’s this you ask? It’s a Strawberry Pie Daiquiri, complete with a graham cracker rim. It tastes like drinking a pie. I had four. The next morning I was feeling a little guilty (plus I’m supposed to be training for the Queens Half marathon in a little over 8 weeks) so I got up early on my holiday weekend to go for a run. That’s accomplishment enough if you ask me.

I decided to take a more scenic route. I braved the giant hill and headed to Riverside Park. It was literally a perfect morning and a great day to go for a run. I spent the first half of my run just soaking it all in- the sun, the trees, the breeze from the Hudson. Then it started to get hard, and I had to focus on something else. I saw this old guy way out in front of me. He literally had white hair and was hunched over, so I figured I could catch him. I spent the next mile and a half trying to catch this guy. I followed him up a hill, down some steps, around the corner, but I just couldn’t. The old guy was fast. At some point, he left the running trail and crossed the street and I still hadn’t closed the gap much. I decided to make up for it by really pushing my speed for the last mile or so. I have long legs, and I figure I should put them to good use every now and then. This was a big mistake. The run felt great, but the next day I COULD NOT move. The fronts of my legs were so heavy and my hip flexors felt like rocks. I had forgotten this part of running- all the post-run discomfort. My happy little running bubble has been burst. Welcome back to the world of running.

I blame the old man.