I went two weeks without running. It sucked. I've written before how running has to become like brushing your teeth. The trouble is, can you imagine not brushing your teeth? Hopefully not. Going from 70 miles a week to 0 is not something I'd suggest. The last few weeks were hard. On Friday, I'd had enough. I laced up my shoes, pulled on my cold-weather clothes and set out for Central Park. My first steps were tentative. It was all so familiar, yet at the same time I was tentative. My idea run for a half hour at an easy pace, probably about 8:15 per mile. My route was to Central Park and around the Reservoir. The soft, flat surface of the Reservoir seemed like just what I needed. About 30 minutes later, I was finished. My initial feeling: relief. I missed running. Even going just a few miles at a pace I'd consider excruciating just a month ago was great. The next day, I didn't have much soreness. I went back out for another 3.5 miles today. Now the Achilles is a bit sore. This is probably going to be a bit by bit thing. The key will be running enough to get some blood flowing, but not too much that I just perpetuate the problem. It's crazy when I think back to how hard I was training not that long ago. That's how things go sometimes. Setbacks are inevitable but temporary.
3.5 miles, 30:28