Sore Muscles. I’ve been thinking about them quite a bit lately. Mostly because my quads have been sore over the last few days as a result of my 18 miler on Sunday and every time I stood up or attempted stairs or bent over to tie my shoe I was reminded, “oh yeah, sore muscles.”
Here’s the catch, though. I actually like sore muscles.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like sore muscles in the same way I like cupcakes or a good book. I don’t enjoy sore muscles but I do like them.
I like sore muscles because every time I did any of those things mentioned above, I was reminded of the achievement of good long run. Granted, the excessive soreness of two days is a sign that my legs may not have been ready for 18 miles that day but I also take it as a sign that I need to recovery because my legs worked really hard and I should be proud.
My legs carried me through a really strong 18 miles and didn’t complain. They just want to remind me how hard they worked and that they may deserve a little break. My quads are not so subtly raising their voice, saying, “We’re a little broken, busted and torn but give us some time to rejuvenate and we’ll be back and better than ever.”
Sore muscles are all those microscopic tears in my muscles repairing themselves to make me stronger the next time I run 18 miles.
Counter-intuitively, sore muscles make me feel strong and powerful. I’m carrying around a reminder of all the hard work I’ve done that will pay off for me at the finish line of my next marathon and that reminder makes me feel good.
On the other hand, sore muscles also serve as a reminder that I should have taken it a little slower during the run, stretched better after the run and taken the time to jump in an ice bath once I got home. Oops!
Today’s Daily Dozen:
5 mile morning run – first one since Sunday’s long run, felt good
Strength Training (BROCCL) @ lunch
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