I needed to run. I needed to run like a man at the bottom of a pool needs to breathe. Medical, financial, relationship and legal problems all hit HARD all at once. I had to get out and run off the frustration.
Problem was: the day before I hurt myself. Taking a long lunging stride, I felt a pain in my hip not unlike when I dislocated it a couple of years ago; I thought I might've broken the femur head, but I could stand and walk. In fact, I jogged home, but discovered I couldn't lift my left leg up to climb steps when I got home.
Still, I needed to try. I was scheduled to do hill repeats at the Brickyard, but that didn't seem likely. I went anyway, planning to take a gingerly stroll down the hill and see whta happened. Something went SNAP! and the hip was better - hurt, but much better. I ran down to the bottom of the hill and decided to try one hard time up.
The first 100 yards are at about a 35 degree angle. I took short fast steps, dodging ruts and rocks. The first turn is about 45 degrees and treacherous footing, but I slue around, intentionally trying to keep momentum. Then comes a long gradual uphill and I pushed. Then a turn and another slightly steeper section, deeply rutted and I pushed some more. One more turn, a leap over a puddle and a long drive up the last uphill. I was gasping for air, but drove with all my might. The last 30 yards I could see the top, though it gets a bit steeper and I gave it all I had. I hit the top in 3:44.
My previous fastest up that hill was 4:40. It works out to be equivalent to a mile in 5:10.
Then I started wheezing and I coughed until I vomited. My eyes watered, my nose ran, my shoulders heaved up and down as I coughed up tons of mucus.
And I was happy.
And I did three more hills for a cool-down. Then it was back to messy "real" life again.
Fisher's Big Wheel
1 week ago