Talk It Out

I had an unfortunate misstep on our trail run last weekend.  I thought nothing of it, but after a four-miler a few days later, my ankle hurt while walking the next day.  Not sure if this is something I need to be really worried about, I decided to test it out with a light thirty-minute jog with A in the park yesterday evening.

I keep reading that the best runners are not blowing out their lungs but maintain a pace that allows them to have a conversation.  I typically am panting and heaving on any given run, but since we were slowing our roll, I decided to try to find out what, for me, is a relaxed talking pace.  Last night was definitely a fine speed for conversation, but turns out the hardest thing about talking and running is thinking of things to talk about.

After discussing our work days, the government shut down, and potential dinner options, I was pretty much tapped out after ten minutes.  I tried to comment on the girls’ soccer practice and the guys smoking a joint at the pull up bars, but after the first lap (of seven), the scenery was pretty much covered.

I was running…out of things to say.  Ugh, with jokes like that, maybe it’s for the best.