Please Don't Taunt The Drill Sergeant

Yes I'm back. Boo yeah.

My first long run back with TNT was amazing. Complete with new stability sneakers, toe separators, and a new attitude, I headed for the Metro North. We took the train up to Hartsdale, which is in Westchester, and ran along a really pretty, windy path, some of it dirt, some paved, with lots of short but ridiculously steep hills. The course was out to the Kensico Dam and back, which was about 10.2 miles, and then there were various check points for the second out and back. I set out to do 10 and ended up doing 13! It was awesome.



I met some great new people, ran with several different people at different points in the run, and even got to run with my "go-to" coach Felicia for three miles and pumped her for information about training. It would have been a great feeling to be back if it was just Central Park but the course and chatting with some team peeps made it even better.

One of the girls I was running with was rooting us on the whole time and cheering and cracking jokes to keep us going. Then we came across a group of military trainees where were standing at attention right in the middle of the bike path with a drill sergeant yelling in their faces. Of course we were on the bike path so we jogged on by with our purple shirts and pony tails. This girl decides to go "good job! woohoo!" at the drill sergeant. After which for some reason we all felt the need to take off running like he was going to come after us wielding his Semper Fi flag.

So the run was amazing and I felt great, although really sore, and I came home with a combination blood blister, callus, and regular blister on the ball of my right foot. Ew.

I was thinking the other day about how in a previous post I referred to my injury as my "unfortunate demise." On Saturday at practice the "Mission Moment" was given by a girl whose best friend in college got bone cancer in her kidney. She went through 40 rounds of chemo, but then got leukemia from the chemo. If you've never heard of that, it's sadly a common thing. She had a bone marrow transplant and recovered. Two years later she relapsed, had another bone marrow transplant. Then again later, relapsed. At that point, she was told she only had three months left. Her friends and family holed up in her apartment, watching movies, playing board games, getting take out...and then on her last day they put her favorite iPod playlist on and gathered around her as she passed away. As the girl finished her story she held up a homemade medal that her friend had made for her out of construction paper and yarn to congratulate her on her first 4 mile run. Hearing this story again made me kick myself for being so "woe is me" about my injury. The mission moments really help keep things in perspective for you. Everyone was crying, including Coach Christine who as she wiped her eyes said "don't forget to hydrate!"