I would run one thousand miles...

Today I hit ten miles in my long run, and moved it from Monday to Sunday. I had to do some mathematical juggling to figure out the breakdown of miles between this past week and next week, since my week ends on Sunday nights, but I think I was successful. I saw at least three other Flyers in the park. One I had a pleasant, albeit brief discussion with about 5th Ave, Grete's, and Staten Island before moving on.

It was humid and my shirt was a size too large. Consequently, I got a wee chafed in front. No blood; just some burn. I don't usually chafe much, but my nips are my achilles heel, if that's not too anatomically confusing. Ouch, anyway.

Aside from being my longest run since the spring, the significance of today's run was that .2 miles into it I hit 1,000 miles for this year. I remember discussing this threshold with jbl last year, and thinking how cool it would be to adjust my mileage to hit a thousand right at the finish line of a race. If I were close enough, I could have done this with 5th avenue next weekend, but luck just wouldn't have it. Oh well.

And I would run one thousand more...

I had actually started this year thinking I could rack up 2,000 miles for the year, but apparently, since Satan decided to interfere with my training back in May, I'm not going to be able to do that either. Oh well, again.

One thing that hitting ten again made me remember is that long runs take a long time, and then coming back to the apartment, not surprisingly, I'm really tired. Post long run stretches are the most difficult things in the world to do for me. Once I sit down it's hard to get up again, and I admit that I was really slack today in my stretching.