Some people do “mud runs.” As in, actual organized races involving man-made mud and transplanted obstacles. When I race, I race to run fast. Thus, I do not participate in mud runs. I do, however, run in the mud. And it’s awesome. If there isn’t a foot of snow on the ground, or if other people I am running with haven’t planned a run on the road, I’m on the trails. On Friday, we had an unexpected 55 degree day, which melted most of the previous week’s snow and left the trails, well, calling for me.
After an exciting morning, I left work at 1:45 to “runch.”
runch (v.) – to take a break from work and run.
runch break (n.) – a period of time equal to the length of your desired run during the work day in which you are not at work, but instead in a state of bliss on a road or trail.
I headed to my park of choice, my favorite place to runch. As expected, the trails were very muddy. This run was also a test for my Achilles, since I had not run on it since Tuesday’s workout. While I did feel a little tightness at some point, there was no pain, and it’s safe to say I am not as concerned about it as I was Tuesday night. It was 52 minutes of fun, and I enjoyed the warmth to the max. I was in short sleeves and shorts, but could have easily been as sweaty in a tank top – it was awesome. I stretched outside the store upon my return, and got a couple second glances. “You’re really muddy,” one guy said, “where were you running?” I told him, and refrained from my signature “you should come buy shoes from me!” line (apparently I don’t exhibit such restraint at the bar…).
Proof of my muddiness:
On Sunday at our post-run brunch (post to come, in the meantime see Brennan’s!), Martin and I were talking about our separate fun Friday runs in the mud…and we both took pictures of our shoes! How about that! “You have to!” he said, and we laughed for awhile at how runners take pictures of their muddy shoes.