Of Nipples and Dead Cats

The air has turned cool this week and I very much welcome that. The first two weeks of September, with their warm, humid August hangover, have not been pleasant. My runs this week have been faster and longer. I’ve been relaxed and, though I’ve pushed myself, I haven’t felt that soul sucking desperation that accompanies runs on a warm day.

My workouts have not come without some problems, though. Namely nipple problems. A week and a half ago, on a Sunday, I ran seven miles on the towpath…my longest yet. Once again I was sweating up a storm. About have way through I started chaffing. By the time I had run six miles, my man-schmeebs were in agony. I was using one hand to hold my shirt away from my body.

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Day of Rest

I sit here at the kitchen table, watching the sun come up and feeling itchy to get out and run. But I shan’t. I’ll let my body rest and recover.

Yesterday and Wednesday were one’s for the books. Something I’ve worked towards (not a goal mind you…we can’t have goals yet) is to be able to run the four mile circuit down Washington Street, across Route 340, through the park and back up again. It’s a route I know intimately from my walking days. Most of that route is flat and a good chunk of it is downhill. However, if you run down to the river, you eventually have to make it back up again.

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