© 2013 Jules

$15 Socks

I am excited and nervous to admit that I am training for a marathon.  I ran a half marathon in April (story of that here) and afterwards, I took a few weeks off, running no further than three miles a day to recuperate.  But the lure of the road began to call me again, and for some strange reason I really missed my Saturday morning long runs.  Additionally, after the half marathon I invested in a new pair of running shoes, a different version than the last, and discovered they were way more comfortable and don’t give me a blister the size of a junior mint on my left foot. Bonus!  Without having to squash blister pain every other step, I now found my running horizons to have expanded and the lure of 26.2 drew me in.

My running parter Heather was also feeling the same inclination, so we dove back into the endurance routine.  Two maintanence runs a week, one long run on the weekend, interval watches, energy gels, ice baths and gatorade, our routine is finely honed.  We planned our training program (thank you Jeff Galloway) and found out that it would take us 3.5  months to work up to the 26 mile distance.  This landed us running a marathon right in the middle of August.  Oddly, there were very few scheduled races in that time frame.  Apparently no one wants to run 26.2 miles in the dead of summer.  Strange, but we submitted to popular opinion and reframed our training.

We upped our tempo, lowered our distance and kept running through the summer.  Our new marathon date is December 8th, and frankly I am quite pleased at the idea of running a marathon with overcast skys and drizzling rain.  Summer sun is no joke friends, I can say this authoritatively as someone who has very recently run 8 miles on a July morning.  Heat does terrible things to a runner.  It drains your resolve, weakens your limbs, lengthens each stride until all you can do is stagger to the side of a dusty highway and surrender to the circling vultures.

At least that is how it feels.  In reality, you have to drink a lot more water in the heat, which means you have to carry more water on your body.  When we head off I am carrying two, 20 ounce bottles. One is strapped to my hand, the other is sheathed in a very stylish fanny pack where I also store my cell phone and energy gels.  Let me tell you, that is a lot of weight to have bouncing around on your butt for miles on end.  I feel like a hula dancer with the crazy huge skirts that accentuate their hip motion.

But as the miles flow by under our feet, the water bottles gradually empty and my load lightens.  After about mile six, you become sharply aware of things you previously didn’t know existed.  Like the tiny seam across the toe of your sock.  It turns into a mountain range rubbing against your delicate phalanges.  No matter how you squidge your toes around, it still rubs you raw.  In March I invested in a pair of $15 socks.  At the time it seemed appalling to pay $15 for one pair of socks, you could purchase a Sunday ham for $15.  Or two matinee movie tickets.  Or three Venti Frappucinos!  But after ten miles of running, my feet were still happily ensconsed in a pillow of soft fabric, and the socks earned their keep.  Except now I have misplaced one, and my world is crumbling at the seams.  I may have to hire a search party and draw up a grid system to bring home the wandering sock.

$15 Sock

One Comment

    Posted August 3, 2013 at 2:49 pm | #

    Did you ask Maverick if he ate it? Or Bubba?

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