I feel, quite literally, like someone with a large boot has kicked me squarely in the tush. Yesterday's 8 mile run was gorgeous. The midwife and I ran a scenic route taking in the farm in the middle of the city (yes, there is one), the Rideau Canal and a lake. Only a tiny part of the loop was ugly, and we made decent time. We finished in 1 hr 26 minutes, or on pace for a 2:15 half mary. We're training for a 2 to 2:15, so this run felt good.
Until this morning.
My lack of training showed up in yesterday's run. The last mile felt like an eternity and I don't think I uttered one word besides "Un-huh" for a solid 10 minutes. This morning I woke to find my left calf and hamstring so very sore. My right glute feels almost OK if only because the left feels so horrible.
And then I went to drop off my taxes this morning. For the most part it's pretty straight forward, until she asks me for health expenses. A whole whack more stuff is eligible than I thought and we'd qualify for a deduction IF I HAD BLOODY WELL KEPT ALL OUR PAPERWORK. I'm such an idiot. Here's me thinking I'm super organized. Well, apparently I'm too organized, in that I've already recycled all sorts of receipts I should have kept.
I'm such a fool.
To make matters even peachier, tomorrow we run hills. Ouch. But in a perverse way, I'm looking forward to the change in tempo of our training. Five hills, 45 to 60 second surges. I'll let you know how I hold up.