Weirdly Sore

Today is one of the few days this semester that I would have actually been able to run with the group tonight without shirking work responsibilities.

So, I'm sore, in two different ways. Can a body get late-onset soreness? Inquiring minds want to know.

I felt great after the race, except for the whole 'can't breathe' thing. Felt great on Monday. Felt good running to work yesterday.

Ok. Felt good part of the way to work yesterday. A emerald-rare quality to the morning: purple-pink-blue and fragrant, with a carpet of leaves from the hail the night before. Practicing pumping my arms up the hills and picking up my step.

I even weighed my backpack: it was only about 15 pounds.

But, by the time the Penn Station Stop rolled around on the West SIde Path, my hamstrings and, especially, quads, were kinda sore.

And the marathon is less than a month away. So, no delicious company-filled run for me tonight. Instead, just me and my estranged television. Maybe we can kiss and make up this evening.

Part of why I like running to work, insasmuch as I do, is that the run gives me time to plan my day and to figure out what will go where in my week, as well as to figure out what sort of non-lecture-based exercises I'll force (heh!) students to do in class.

Yesterday, I was calculating furiously. Monday was a grading marathon that left little room for prep. I was to cover someone else's classes yesterday, run a reading group, and go to some meetings and an observation. Doing the jig-saw in my head, I was really getting freaked out for someone who, according to most of america and the NYT editorialists, only has to work 8 hours a week.
But then I remembered. I had worked at home for two hours before running to work. Where I was able to do some of my work in lycra shorts with a killer view of the water, before rolling into my office at 8:45am. Or maybe even 9:00am. So what if, yesterday, I didn't finish work until 9:30pm? Another day, I might decide is Saturday. And that Saturday is really Thursday.
How would I do at a real job, I wonder? And does mine count as a 'real job' or no? Does a 'real job' have to be 9 to 5? If so, none of my relatives' jobs would count. Theirs are more like 9 to 9, or something sadly American like that.

I never did much like wearing a tie.....