Okay, time is short so I'll just get to the point.
My freaking legs hurt. Feet too. Not agonizing pain, but that dull ache that sets into 41-year-old joints after running 9 miles on them.
First, some background: there is a half-marathon coming up in May. I've participated in this race twice before. I've declared I will never run a half-marathon again twice before, too. Turns out I'm not real good at keeping personal promises.
The run itself was great. The weather was ideal; my knees were stiff for the first couple minutes but they loosened up. My wife ran with me and she had a great run, too. She went a little faster than she normally runs, and I went a little slower than I normally run, and we both ran a lot closer to each other than we normally run. It was fun.
I feel okay right now. I'm sitting down. After the run I showered then lit some charcoal and cooked up some porterhouse steaks. We had split half of a cow with my aunt and uncle; these steaks were fresh, grass-fed, all-natural, hormone- and antibiotic-free beef...for only $2.99 / lb. I'm still lingering in food heaven, sipping on some wine and digesting.
But my future awaits. This bliss soon will end. For in my future: Stairs.
Stairs are my ultra arch-enemy at the moment. They are evil. Going up is decidedly worse than going down, but I cut them no slack in either direction. They are hurtful, mean objects. Soon it will be bedtime, and that means the stairs and I will have an unpleasant confrontation.
Legs. Ouch. And since this is a series focused on music, I feel obliged to point out that ZZ top wrote a song about legs. It's a great song, but it approaches the subject from a much different perspective than I have presented today.