58.08 miles down. 11 days to go.
on friday afternoon, i packed it up and hopped on a bus heading to maine. everything they say about greyhound is true. it is truly the worst bus line to take. the a/c busted on the first leg to boston and the driver was rude to everyone . the second leg of the trip ran over an hour late, and involved bellowing barefoot babies in diapers scampering up and down the aisle. i also had the displeasure of sitting next to an insufferable woman. she kept invading my personal space with her elbows of valyrian steel. i was poked in the ribs five times! it got to the point where i had to mash myself up against the window.
oh so uncomfortable.
i took pictures to pass the time i spent pressed against the glass.
as a kid, i used to pass this place on my family’s many trips down through boston from new hampshire where i grew up. i always knew that we were “almost there” when we’d pass the iconic sand & gravel co.
i was relieved to jump off of the bus in portsmouth, nh. sweet freedom! farewell, lil’ miss pokey-poke and the diaper twins! goodbye, smelly bus! my dad picked me up at the station, and together we made the rest of the trip up to wells, maine.
once we arrived, i jumped out of the car and reunited with nolan. he looked like he grew over five inches since he left in july for grandma and grandpa’s. when i went in for a hug, his shoulder collided with my forehead. surreal.
after settling in and unpacking, i wrangled my feet into my running shoes. desperate to shake the afternoon’s travel off of me, i took off down the lane, little dust clouds blooming behind my heels.
i took a hard left onto mile road. i’ve driven down mile road from my parents summer house to the seawall countless times, but i’ve never experienced the road as a runner. i could smell the familiar metallic scent of the saltwater marsh, delivered on the wind that skimmed across the tall grass. inspired by the scenery, i uncorked my earbuds and ran to the droning sound of chirping crickets. i also chose to ignore the mild pain jabbing my calves while i made my way to the seawall.
somehow, the coast of maine always manages to pull its shit together just in time for me to take a picture of it.
i tried pulling my own shit together here as well, but i wasn’t as successful. todd took a photo of himself while running earlier that day in berkeley, california, so i thought it would be cute to make an east coast/west coast photo collage. it didn’t come out so cute. i laugh-cried over it for a few minutes, as did todd.
the run itself was a fast one, and i was happy with my splits, but i was hurting. it felt like my calf muscles were tearing away from my bones with each step i took. i forced myself to take a rest day on thursday, but leading up to that point, i had run 9 days in a row. rookie mistake. of COURSE i hurt. i didn’t give myself enough time to recover.
after eating dinner, nolan, my sister and i walked over to the scoop deck ice cream shop. it’s a yearly tradition of mine to reward/punish my gut with three large scoops of delicious black raspberry ice cream. no regrets this time around. a pound of ice cream in the belly is good for recovery, right?
post ice cream shenanigans.
i spent saturday hanging out with the family, barbecuing and playing with my baby niece. in the late afternoon, i headed out for a run on the beach at low tide. a slow run. from the very start, i was feeling sore in the calves. while i happy to be running on the beach with the ocean wind at my back, i was kind of bummed out.
on sunday morning, we all headed to drakes island. instead of sitting on the beach, nolan and i chased each other down the jetty. the gaps grew increasingly wider between the rocks on our way to the end, so i slowed down quite a bit halfway through. nolan, however shuffled across them barefoot like it was no big deal–it’s both terrifying and awesome to watch as a parent.
sunday’s miles had me skittering over a groaning, old treadmill in my parents bedroom. boo! but yay–it felt better on my calves! but still, boo! i have over 40 miles to run before the end of the 30 days challenge on august 22nd.
i’m worried, sore, and annoyed, but i think i’ve got this. i am going to have to run the rest of those 40+ miles like i handled those rocks on the jetty–very carefully.