Two Runs, Breaking Bad: 31 Days Left / by charles desrochers

This week was always going to be stressful. It was always going to take about 70% of my attention and leave little else besides breathing, eating, and whatever running is. This is one of those weeks where you job has 9 extra bosses, for some reason. I knew it was coming, though. So it’s not like I’m prepared for it. Let’s just say that the last time I was under this much stress I drank a lot of lemon juice to have something sweet to taste throughout the day.

I ground my teeth so much and wasted them away with citric acid of my precious fucking lemon water that I bit a piece of my own molar off.

This time is different. I’m running, obviously, but I’m deeper into a relationship that’s been one of the truest joys in my life. For what it’s worth, I have a dog and he’s generally a piece of shit but he’s super squishy and fun to hug.

Monday’s run didn’t happen.

Tuesday’s run, that used to be Monday’s run, was actually great. It took me a while to force myself out of the door, but I started to make my Mondays, the short day, also 4-5 mile days. So on Monday I jogged out in my finger shoes (I know but they do feel really comfortable) and hopped along my new long local route. I knew it felt good and I could feel myself pumping more and more, while also figuring out how my muscles best work in coordination.

I had to make myself stop to cool down at the end, knowing that I wouldn’t get any sleep if I ran to my door step.

Today’s run was messy. I did it with my running shoes, which are Altra zero drop whatever’s, in case you’re wondering. It’s the same route I did on Tuesday but I realized there’s a different feeling to running a catch up run than a late run. The difference is that one you can take it easy- because we all should be allowed to forgive ourselves- bot on the second you’re making up for lost time and the world will end if you’re not making any progress!

I run mostly in the dark. I don’t want to read much into it because the truth is that I don’t like to run in the morning and my job is demanding enough that I shouldn’t rely on being home during the day. So I run at night.

I have glasses.

I have an astigmatism (imagine there was a message from god in every beam of light you’ve ever seen).

You put these two together and what it means is that when I’m out at night and there’s moisture anywhere, I’m just hoping for the best: jog on the windshield; fog on the glasses; fog on only the windshield and you wipe it to make it better; realizing there’s still fog on your glasses.

In a strange way I love not seeing at night. It ads some excitement as far as not seeing low hanging branches, but it lets me fall into the dream state of running even more. At a certain point I only recognize blotches of dark colors as warning. If there’s nothing ‘dark and straight across’ to signify a crack in the sidewalk or a ‘large lump of dark blue’ coming up than you could just focus on what was important… Saying sorry?

But like the first run the second eventually led to my moment of content when I realized sooner that I could run faster.

There was a hill that I was running, the loop I run has a 3 mile stretch of rollers and it’s actually always a good time, and I noticed a point when I wasn’t tired.

It really was the strangest thing. It was like the novelty became that it didn’t suck. And so while I listened to my podcasts about the NFL I ran happy and full of breath.

(It doesn’t hurt that the last 2 miles of my loop is down hill, mostly).