Maybe not the best idea for a sore Achilles, but I met up with my friend Tyler this afternoon for a second run. He has been getting into running lately and lives down the street, but this is the first time we've run together since I moved to Potrero.
He led me through some of the neighborhood back roads, even onto some trails, then we plunged down through DogPatch to Terry Francois and out to the ballpark. The initial ups were pretty bad, my legs weren't thrilled with the idea of a second outing. But after a couple miles I settled in and reached back into my experience of running tired, and kept plodding.
I worked on my nose breathing, something you don't really want to tell your running partner when you've already run 17 miles, he's working hard, and you are diligently keeping your mouth closed to practice running without much oxygen.
We cut back along Mission Slough, past houseboats and through the wave of construction at Mission Bay. Then up De Haro doing my best not to be too chatty, powering through one of the steepest hills in the area.
The most annoying part about this Achilles problem is that rest of me is so damn fit. I go through periods where I lapse into unhealthiness and can feel a little bulge pushing over my waistline, but for the most part I am in really good shape. In many ways, the best shape of my life -- or certainly since I was a teenager. So when the Achilles shuts off and I grind up a hill, mellow breathing up what should burn your lungs, I tend to push it too hard and aggravate my sore leg. Its a frustrating cycle, but a new aspect of the mental side of running I'll have to learn to live with as the years meander on.