Sliding into first base

A start. An actual start. That's how I felt driving home last weekend after the Los Gatos Overgrown Trail Marathon. That fatass event topped off a week of 67 miles. Having run 15 the previous day from Mission Peak to Sonol and back, the marathon was a nice finale. I was quite satisfied having finished the 26.6 miles (and 6000ft of climbing) in just under 5 hours. My hip was not so happy on Monday after a weekend total of 10,000ft up and down, but I still managed a nice little recovery run to loosen up and some time on the foam roller. Tuesday, unfortunately, I awoke with a scratchy throat. Always some fits to go with those starts.

Luckily, I wasn't down too long. I eked out a meager 15 miles during the week and then got out for 10 miles of steep hill repeats with Harry and Beat yesterday. Today I sit inside snuggled in a lack of motivation, watching the rain fall outside. I really should get in at least 5 miles, but it's too easy to comfort myself with reassurances that I shouldn't push it based on how I felt this morning. I did sign up for the Sequoia 50K next weekend. So I am, at least, guaranteed more miles next week.

It's funny, I seem to be more paranoid of injury, illness and whatnot this time of year than when closer to my goal races. If I have my fitness where I want it and am laid up for a week or so, I know that it is just a matter of recovery to get back on track. However, if I am put out during my buildup period, I start worrying about failing to get into shape in the first place. I'm not sure if the analogy holds, but it's sort of like sliding into first base. Risking too much on a play so early in the game doesn't make sense. Well, it sounds good anyway.