As my mileage begins to creep north of 70mpw my body has transformed into a demanding, stubborn boss. Just who is in the pilot’s seat right now? Is it me, or my legs that are dictating my wants and desires?
Here’s what my body has been telling me this week:
1. She needs fuel. All the time: I cannot seem to eat enough, or often enough or fast enough. Let’s not even talk about the french fry craving. I try to slow down and chew my food, but it’s not an easy task when you’re body has transformed into a human Hoover vaccum. Last night I ran for two hours on the trail. When I run that long (anything over 90 minutes) I abandon my usual grain-free, paleo diet and reach for whatever sounds right. Last night I craved hummus, nuts, and some gluten-free pizza. It was a good spread but I demolished half of the ‘zza before I could really even taste it.
2. She needs love, in the form of painfully intense massage. Specifically, my legs have been whispering that they need attention. Of course they do. My lovely lady legs work hard and I only wish that I could treat them to weekly massages by a professional. Sadly for my massage therapist and my legs, there is just no room in this girl’s budget. As a replacement I’ve found that putting a lacrosse ball on the floor and then rolling over it with whatever body part hurts works pretty well. I like to think of it as a recession massage.
3. She has a drinking problem: I know that I need to be drinking a trough full of water everyday to offset all the miles, but somehow I look at a glass of water and I think “eh, I guess I SHOULD drink this, but I’d so much rather be drinking tea or coffee.”
4. She’s a rebel: Yesterday I had planned to run 8 miles in the morning before work and 7 tempo miles at night. My body, apparently, had different ideas. I woke up early, I tied on my running shoes. I put on my watch, I turned off the lights and stepped outside. I got two steps down the street when my body yelled, “We refuse to run ONE more time in the cold pre-dawn. March yourself right back to your apartment and get under the covers. We are not running this morning,”
Who was I to argue? I turned right back around and declared my early morning run a complete failure. Later, my body agreed to take me on a 15-mile trail run after work. My body – she can be so stubborn!
And now that I review this list, I realize that my body has many of the same characteristics as a moody, rebellious teenager. What’s up with that?