The Day After

The day after. The day when aches and sores from unsurfaced lactic acid are amplified in the muscles. The day when one's movement takes on an exaggerated crab likeness. Thankfully it just felt like any other day-after a training long run, ie. non-elegant.

I refused to do any recovery run today. Alber, on a high from his good marathon experience, suggested a short run. I am definitely not going anywhere near my runners and gear today. I think I deserve a little break, even though I felt like I had not completely offloaded the carbo I had in the past week. In fact, I had probably gained weight! Anyway, I gathered a few runners and we headed out for a dinner buffet to recharge ourselves. We had an enjoyable time recounting the hits and misses of Sunday's marathon and the people we saw along the way, in between gobbling down plates of oysters, seafood, sashimi and everything else on the buffet spread.

I believe that running is an individual sport. I still do. But teamwork will always make the experience better. One spoke about the "missing link" in a surprise pacing partner he found on Sunday, to motivate and look out for one another. When you have a shoulder-to-shoulder pacing partner, running stride for stride in sync alongside, words are unnecessary. Team support also meant generosity in sharing tips, strategies and resources like gels and salt tablets. Or simply by being there during the monotony of long long runs, or the lung-bursting pain of speed work.

Yet at the end of it, we run our own race. From when the gun goes off to when we see the finishing tape, the show is ours. Make it a good one.