Rule #1 in training for endurance events is proper-fitting shoes. I know that, and I know so much more about myself as a runner now than I did this time a year ago when I was training for the 1/2 Marathon in Boston. Shoes, shoes, shoes! Happy feet! Comfy socks! No nigglies! I've taken all of the information that I've gleaned from this program and have tried to follow all the rules when buying my newest pair of running shoes (that I purchased at Fleet Feet in Raleigh on March 15th). Fleet Feet employees in Raleigh and in Carrboro are informed, thorough and seem to be my partners in helping me find the dream shoes my feet are looking for. We're getting closer, but still no cigar. I've missed the last two 'long runs' these past two weekends due to not wanting to cause any injuries.
Instead, this past Sunday, I swam at the gym, at least keeping the consistency of my weekly cardio routine in tact. And what a beautiful Sunday it was here in Chapel Hill! We had spent most of the day outside, David making stilts and a boomerang out of bamboo, kids jumping on the neighbors' trampoline and fun, normal stuff you do on nice Sunday afternoons.
When I drove home from the gym, all showered and refreshed, I saw my kids and David talking to two men. A closer look revealed that they weren't men, they were neighborhood 'boys' that we hadn't seen in about 2 years!! I've blogged about these tweens before, here, and here, but now they were full-on teens! In High School! The skateboarding gear, bikes, scooters, rollerblades, now new bamboo stilts, and a pogo stick were easily alluring to teenage boys. One of the boys, who happens to excel in speed rollerblading, couldn't get the knack for staying on the pogo stick past 5 or 6 boings. His cousin, though, made it up to 75. The Challenge center of my brain fired up and I blurted, "I bet I could beat your 75." Could I though? I wouldn't have said that if there wasn't a deep-seeded confidence somewhere that thought I could do it. I told them to let me change out of my flip flops and skirt and that the Challenge was on.
While I was changing, however, the pogo-er had increased his PB (personal best) to 258! Rats! Was that what I was supposed to beat? I said, "But I'm only trying to beat 75, right" "Right," the boys agreed. We agreed I'd get a turn or two to get used to the very stiff pogo stick, and when the count was on, it was ON! When I quickly got into my groove, I knew I'd surpass 75, so I kept going, counting each boing in my head and each 10-20 boings out loud until I hit 260! I did it! They couldn't believe it, and I couldn't either. My lungs were burning and I started to cough. I recovered with sufficient powerade, but as I was wrapping the unexpected visit up and giving my kids the 5-minute warning before calling them inside for the evening, Pogo Boi announced that he'd made it to 448. Ah, another challenge. But for another day.
