THUD ... THUD ... pant, pant... THUD... pant... THUD... pant.  That's what you might have heard if you had the misfortune of being anywhere near me while I was attempting to run on Saturday.  It was my first 10 mile run since my marathon last November and I wouldn't say I was exactly light on my feet.

I decided that 10 miles was outrageous considering that I am coming back from an injury and a winter full of queso.  My plan was to attempt 8 miles and to run in the neighborhood instead of at the lake.  I didn't want to feel any group pressure to go longer or faster than I should.  Of course, I should have realized that my worst "peer" pressure comes from me.  So, naturally, when I got to the turn around for my 8 mile run, I thought why not push it just a bit and try to run 9... and when you're already running 9, you might as well run 10, right?  It was a slug fest, but I managed to cover 10 long miles (with several water and curse breaks).  My brain knows that there will be a point in this training season where 10 miles will seem like cake.  My brain knows it, but my legs don't believe it.

4 more miles on Sunday morning where I tried to drown myself in sweat.  Week 2 of training = done and done.