Twelve miles

I was out of town this weekend and couldn't make it to the group run on Sunday. So I did my weekly long run on my own today. We were supposed to do twelve miles. I studied my map and decided that if I ran from my place to the Panhandle, all the way through Golden Gate Park to the ocean and back, it would be somewhere around eleven or twelve miles. Close enough.

I headed out at around 10:30 this morning, thinking it was a much more civilized hour to be running than the usual 8 am. Somehow, although we've done as much as ten miles through the park on our various runs, the thought of running all the way from one end of the park to the other and back seemed like quite an undertaking. But I made it to the ocean by 11:50 am, ten minutes ahead of schedule. No, I don't think I was running extra fast today—I think it wasn't really quite as far as I'd thought. In fact, by the time I got back to the east end of the Panhandle, it was only 1:10, so I decided to backtrack a few blocks to get in another twenty minutes.

For once, I got home feeling fine and didn't need an afternoon nap. Looks like the sleepiness is only because I generally do my long Sunday runs on four to five hours of sleep, not because the running wears me out!