…and so it begins again.
After a previous run where my injured calf flamed up I rested. Then, with moving apartments and getting settled, I took a couple more days off to give the leg time to heal. I had wanted to get started again yesterday but Jamie – excited about his last day of school – was up before 6am. Hence, this morning, I was ready to take a short run and make sure my leg still worked the way that it should.
I was planning on nothing more than about five or six kilometers. Last time I had been feeling OK and pushed on for a 10K to my eventual demise. This time I would finish even before I really got started with a half hour of running and – fingers crossed – returning home with both legs still functioning.
I stepped outside the door having waited for the overnight rain to stop and, just as I was about to hit start on the Garmin, I heard a passing cyclist call my name. Now I don’t have all that many friends, and even fewer who would be out exercising before 6am on a Saturday morning. As the cyclist turned around and made their way back to meet me I saw it was my buddy Rigo. He was out for a morning ride and had the ascent of Croix Rousse in mind. It was great to catch up for a few minutes and a nice surprise to start off a run.
Bidding Rigo goodbye, I headed down from Jacobins to Bellecour, skirted the Euro 2016 Fan Zone and headed down the Rue Victor Hugo towards Perrache. I was being careful not to overextend my legs and to keep things nice and steady. As the first kilometer ticked over at about 4:50 pace I decided that this was comfortable and aimed to keep it about there for a loop around the city center.
At Perrache I crossed over the Rhone and then dropped down onto the berges and headed back upriver. There were a few people still out from the night before but no one was crazy. One guy wished me bon courage and then, as an afterthought, suggested I would run faster with a beer. I smiled and kept going towards the Pont Morand.
At the Pont Morand I left the berges and headed up the stairs to cross back to the Presque Isle. As I passed the skate ramp on the left bank I smiled as I read some graffiti – Irish people are sexy – as I was feeling anything but sexy as I sweated out the run. It was humid from the rain and even though I wasn’t pushing very hard I was still sweating a fair bit. Reaching the right bank, I hooked down past the Opera House, took a straight shot down the Rue de Republique, and then clicked stop on the Garmin as I got back to Jacobins.
Result? A very comfortable half hour running and no leg pain at all. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.