Oh no! My toe is purple!
Remember how I was complaining of swollen feet and bruised toes after Sunday’s 29 km run through the thick of the 34 degree temperature. Well, it seems, one of those toes went from being a tad tender to a nasty, ugly shade of purple – the horror of runners all around. And as much as I love the shade of purple on almost anything else (I even had a pair of purple Guess jeans when I was 14 :D) I am really not so keen on the shade taking over my toes. I mean seriously, my feet (and everyone else’s for that matter) are already super ugly, and Barney the Purple Toe does not help to beautify them whatsoever!
I suppose I could take this purply development in the opposite direction though: It’s probably better than say a hip injury, and it could very well signify me being a bonafide runner – I mean, it is the sign of hardcore runners isn’t it? Or is that the toe nail falling off?
Ahhhh, who am I kidding? I think the worse when it comes to self diagnosis. What if I have to drill a hole through it like my brother did after his toe got stomped on by a soccer cleat? What if it falls off? What if it gets infected and I have to get it amputated? And what if it just pains me so much, I can’t get out of bed? The horror! The horror!
I blame the shoes. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Mizunos, they’ve been the perfect shoes for me – almost. Normally I get a half size larger in running shoes just in case my feet decide to swell and need extra room, but this time, god only knows why, I didn’t. What was I thinking? It couldn’t possibly have been for vanity because I could care less about my shoe size, the only thing I care about when I pick out shoes are the colours and looks – shocking, I know 😉
Time for a new pair of shoes!
- 7 p.m. BG before: 6.9 (4 Sharkies, which I don’t normally buy because I eat them more like candy than I do for running energy)
- Temp basal -60 per cent
- Distance: 10 km (recovery)
- Time: 1:08
- Average pace: 6:50 min/km
- Average heart rate: 163 bpm
- 8:30 p.m. BG after: 8.4
I wasn’t looking forward to last night’s run, and not because I was worried about the distance (10k is nothing these days!) and not because I thought I’d be stiff after doing hills the night before, and not even because I was so super tuckered out – but because I had to say goodbye to one of my oh-so-favourite running chicks.
One third of the Triplets of the Valley is moving away 🙁
Chelsey’s heading back to her job in the States early next week, which is like 6 hours away, far too far for me to run to … although, Mario and I do have an open invite to come visit with our bikes (Nope. I didn’t forget! You can bet your bottom dollar we’ll be showing up!). I tried to kidnap her, but could only offer her a spot in our crawl space under the stairs, which, given that she’s like 5’10, she wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity. So, with a single tear dripping down my cheek, I had to say goodbye.
However, because 10 km just wasn’t long enough to say our goodbyes (especially since she sprinted ahead for like the first half of it) we had to extend it to lunch at the Cult Cafe today. Yum!
Counting down the days until June!