It hurts just about everywhere in my body right now. Except my hair. One toenail is threatening to press charges and my butt claims that the bruises I got skiing were like a gentle massage by comparison.
It all started when I met up with the group in Skatås. Most of today's participants were long standing members (a few from the Skatås Seven) but there were a couple of new faces, too. The plan was to run to Jonsered and back, approximately 25 km. The pavements were covered in ice, but I refused to use spikes. It's not a matter of principle, but rather a question of balance: I hate the way they feel on my feet and I'm afraid I'll twist my ankle when I put them on.
|Old pic. But that's what the pavements looked like today. Only with more ice.|
The road to Jonsered is pretty dull, with lots of traffic and not much else to look at, but chatting with the others in the group never let me notice that. We took the long way back to Skatås. Once we got there, some went in for a shower and sauna, some went home. I ran on, slowing down a bit after the crazy fast pace we've been running at. My Garmin showed 30 km at this point, and I figured I could at least run to the bus stop and bring the total up to 35. Running through the city was a nuisance. People everywhere, talking on their mobiles, completely oblivious of their surroundings or, as was the case with one dad, pushing their baby prams in a zigzag pattern, making it impossible for me to run past them. The zombie apocalypse is here, guys. It's already happening. We're surrounded.
When I passed 35 km, I checked how my legs were doing and made a new deal with myself. I'd run to Linneplatsen and see if I felt like continuing from there. And so it went on: I kept telling myself I'd run just a bit further, and thinking how few kilometres there were left to 40, and then to the marathon; and then when I'd run the marathon I was almost home, so I thought I might as well keep running.
43,6 km later I crawled up the stairs and into our flat. With a new marathon ”record” to boot. I can think of worse ways to spend my Saturday.