Still not running. Still injured.
I don't really want to talk about it.
(Insert some ridiculous picture of a cat with some grammatically incorrect caption about being grumpy)
Instead, I will post something to display my recent bout of awesomeness.
In the two and a half weeks I've been out of the running game, I've been nursing my wounds by developing an addiction to claiming QOMs, or Queen of the Mountains. These are titles given to a woman who is able to complete a segment (or an interval determined by other Strava users) faster than any other woman who has completed that segment.
These running legs are good for making a strong climber.
My husband, who would rather be on his bike than doing anything else, is so tickled that I've started riding again. I accused him of praying for my injury just so I would get back into cycling. When he denied any delight in my inability to run, I said, "Good. So you won't be bothered when I stop riding my bike when I'm all healed," he threatened to create a training plan for me to ensure I'd over train and re-injure myself. It sounds a lot more malicious when you didn't see the tears well up in his eyes out of pure joy that I was riding a bike with him. Silly man-boy.
So hopefully I can be out, tearing up the roads with my feet on the pavement soon. Until then, though, I'll enjoy the crowns I'm collecting-- that is, until someone who actually rides competitively starts uploading her stuff to Strava.
No comments:
Post a Comment