today's recovery: 5 miles
on the iPod: "you are a tourist" -- DCFC
Some days I feel off. When it happens, I usually know why and don't want to admit it to myself, choosing instead to ride it out knowing that feelings come and go: they are never permanent, never constant. I also usually lace up and go for a run to clear my mind. So today is one of those days, a little bit crappy but slowly fading into a sunset that will surely bring a sunrise and a chance to start over. Yesterday, on the other hand? Best run of the summer. Hands down.
I still haven't quite figured out how it happened, but Mrs. Murie texted on Friday afternoon and suggested that we actually start running at 6:00 a.m. What? 6:00 a.m.?? This from my friend who loves sleeping in more than Rip Van Winkle? I was thoroughly dumbfounded and chose to assume that someone had stolen her identity in a bizarre and twisted plot to overtake the running world. But happy about it otherwise, I responded quickly with an affirmative before she could come to her senses and change her mind.
The sun was nothing more than a dark shadow when we started, and the air was crisp in the low sixties. I don't recall starting in the dark this summer before yesterday and had forgotten how peaceful of an occurance it can be. The world slumbers and the trail is a quiet respite awaiting the dawn to come. And in those moments when it does, when daylight creeps forth in it's own time, I can't help but be mindful of the beauty around me. It's a feeling and experience that can't be understood or described, but only enjoyed for what it is, a single moment in time, because then it's gone.
The temperature would never leave the low sixties, which, I've convinced myself, is a huge factor in what made the run so enjoyable. Hitting ten minute miles, we went stride for stride on Mud Creek and Skull Creek Trails, not stopping until mile 9 or so, to grab water at the North Street Mini Mart. My legs had tons of energy in them, and my feet showed no signs of muscle tension or overuse. We continued on, heading south toward the turnaround at the Mill District, enjoying a crystal clear sky and each other's company.
It was at the turnaround when I first felt the irritation on my chest, but I didn't think much about it. I think I remember saying something to Mrs. Murie, but only in passing, even if I did at all. I was distracted by the fact that she and I were wearing identical shirts from the 2010 Chicago Marathon. We got a good laugh about it, surmising that people probably thought we were being paid to do it, or that we were married. Of course that couldn't be the case because Mrs. Murie is married to a rockin' guy, Mr. Murie. And also because I'm.... well.... umm.... errr..... not married to Mrs. Murie. I digress.
But the 2010 Chicago Marathon shirts that we were both wearing played an important role in what was going on, because they were red. The same color as blood. And as that irritation on my chest became a bit more prevalent through miles 12 and 13, it all made sense to me. I had forgotten the cardinal rule for male runners on long runs in the summer: wear nipple guards. Ouch!
There are any number of running related injuries that can plague a runner while training for a marathon. Plantar fasciitis, torn ligaments and tendons, thrown-out hips (ask Mrs. Pugh about that one), shin splints, blisters, dead toenails, the list goes on and on. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can be more minuscule in terms of size and more irritating all at the same time as two chafed nipples. And that's exactly what I had. Bloody nipples. I don't even know why I have nipples! Can someone please explain this to me?
Nip Guards, manufactured by our good friends at NipGuards LLC in Ann Arbor, Michigan, are a male runner's best friend. They retail at finer running stores everywhere for around $8.95 per pack of 10. I've heard they go for a bit cheaper on eBay, but does anybody really want to buy something possibly used and then put them on their nipples? I'll pass.
The rule of thumb is to wear them during warm runs of any mileage over 15, because the sodium in sweat acts like sandpaper in your shirt. I failed to wear Nip Guards yesterday and paid the price. An hour later the bleeding had stopped, but the tops of my nipples were still raw and painful. Not fun.
But even nipple trauma couldn't dampen the great 18 miler that we had. It was an outstanding run that left me wanting to get in a few more miles. And just like crappy days, chafed nipples will pass. But next weekend Mrs. Murie is going to have to double-check that i've indeed got my Nip Guards securely in place before we set on yet another training run for the New York City Marathon. And that we're wearing matching shirts, just like an old married couple.
Run.
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