My ass is angry at me. Angry for marathon training. I’ve upped my mileage in preparation for my slog at the 2015 Detroit Free Press International Marathon, where I will run just ahead of the wagon of shame through two countries in pursuit of the holy PR.
Whenever I get a wee twinge in one of these tiny muscles, I’m always conflicted about what to do: 1) stretch (almost always the right answer) 2) Baby it (but you can’t be a baby forever) 3) Work it more so that it gets stronger.
Right now I’m giving myself permission to back of on the intensity of my runs when I’m feeling something that crosses the threshold from achy-tired to painful. Stay tuned for further developments.