Jim got back last Saturday night from his 50-mile race none the worse for wear (he did it in 8 hours, 35 minutes). He was "a little stiff" the next morning, but by Tuesday, he was ready to go for a little run with me. We ended up doing more than either of us meant to, I think, just because it was a convenient place to run. We ran up Mount Jumbo, past the "L," to a great view of the Missoula valley. It was steep and challenging enough that we had to walk parts of it. Then, on the way down, we realized we only had five minutes to make it down (had to meet up with someone) and it was at least a mile. But, it was DOWN. So I thought I would run it as fast as I could, which was exhilarating. I knew though, as my legs started feeling jelly-like, that I would be sore afterwards.
Jim, on the other hand, never complained of any soreness at all. When asked, however, he did say that his quads ached a little. I was surprised that this time he didn't even seem as ravenous as he has in the past after 50-milers. Maybe that was because I anticipated it this time, and kept putting all this delicious homemade food in front of him before he even had time to think that he was hungry again.
Here is a man who was clearly born to run. I am inspired by him and wish that I could do what he does, but, well, we can't all be Jim. For now I've just got to be thankful that I'm no longer having dizzy spells just driving my car, and that I can run at all.
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