Rest day

Blogging from bed, filled with sleeping creatures and resting me. I slept 10 straight hours last night, waking up only to stretch, and continued the laziness into today. Now I'm lying with menthol tingling on my sore leg, coffee, a book.

It occurred to me while slathering on salve how little the whole marathon training process has hurt. Before doing it, I imagined a constant parade of pain. Growing up as the less-coordinated member of an athletic family, I remember heating pads, hot baths, the smell of ben-gay, ace-bandages, and walk it off. My brother tried to shake out a broken arm.

I'm glad to be doing this in a gentler time; grateful for rest days, happy it doesn't have to hurt. But I'm glad it hurts sometimes; it lets me in on a fine tradition.