I stuck to the schedule this morning, but to no avail.
The alarm went off at 5:00am, I was already awake at 4:45 but wanted to wait and make sure the alarm worked (yea, right). I dutifully hit the button at 5, and got up promptly at 5:09am. Slipped on the shorts, socks, and shoes, grabbed the hat (that I won at the RTW, thank you very much, Luke’s Locker!), and hit the pavement running. I made it around the block and noticed a curious little gimpiness.
“Hm”, I thought to myself. “Hm, that’s interesting, maybe it’ll go away.”
Nope. I went another block, and it didn’t go away. I stopped and walked home.
It wasn’t pain, per se. But it felt like the precursor to pain. “A softness”, as I described it to my lovely wife, and object of my showing off. A feeling that I’m not at all happy with.
Maybe a good 3.5 miles this morning would have pushed it over the edge from “soft” to “hurt” and gotten it on to the healing path?
Maybe it’s just a tired knee, explaining to me that I’m doing too much too fast?
Maybe if I lay off it for the morning and maybe evening, it’ll get better?
Maybe it was just too damn early for the second time this week?
Not sure. But I opted to scrub the run and try and hit it this evening, just to see how things go. This means, of course, that I’m now .5 miles + 3.5 miles behind my weekly goal of 20 miles, which may or may not be made up elsewhere in the week. I think I’ll end up with a 16 mile week, unless I sneak in a run on Friday morning (unlikely) or Saturday evening (very likely). I suppose Sunday is always an option.
The 5k in the Woodlands this weekend is still on the calendar. I’m going to set a PR this weekend. I feel it. I demand it. I need that win, real bad.