14.5 miles in Boston @ 6:32 pace.
Let me explain.
I was to meet good friend and getting-faster-by-the-minute runner Kevin Gray for 7-8 on the Charles. I expected it might be quick, as he's been rounding into the kind of stellar shape I've seen him in (and gotten whupped by him in) before.
I got tied up in traffic and ended up being 15 minutes late. It was pretty damned cold today, so I couldn't blame him for not waiting any more than the 10 minutes he did. I looked for him for a while and then set off on my own, hoping I might run into him at some point, and regretful that I didn't leave the Cape earlier.
So, after 2.5 miles, I did find him, and we hung together for some good conversation and fast pace (6:05 and under) for 3 miles. Then he went one way and I went the other, as he had already been out there for 4-5 more than me and he really wanted to cook the last couple and I though I might be up for it, I'm also being honest with myself that things still aren't anywhere near right with my running and I'm just not "there."
So, I figured I'd just go back on the other side of the Charles.
Well, somewhere, my infamous Bermuda-Triangle GPS kicked in and I was going the wrong damned way. I decided to turn around at mile 9 when I saw the "Entering Newton" sign, which is, frankly, not a good sign.
I decided to retrace mys steps and as the reality began to set it that I was going to end up running close to 15 miles, by far the longest run I've done since August, I embraced it and didn't slow down too much. Of course, that led to my legs realizing I hadn't done anything like this since, well, August and by the time I hit 13, I was praying for sweet, sweet death. It's amazing what a layoff can do and it freaks me out a little that in 3 weeks I'm going to try to hammer 10, but at least I know what I'm in for.
So, lots of rolling, icing and then, of course, a ridiculously busy night at work leaves me feeling like I do after a good 22 miler, only it was 15. Oy. I am as fucked as I'm dumb. Can't wait to do more.