Take It and Run Thursday this week is all about rest and recovery. That topic was definitely on my mind while I was sweating through Saturday's 20 miler, and I got to thinking about my perfect recovery.
(By "perfect recovery" in this case, I mean a recovery time that I can reasonably expect to get. My true perfect recovery, which involves Ewan McGreggor massaging my feet while singing songs from Moulin Rogue and wearing his Obi-Wan costume is, unfortunately, harder to arrange.)
I finish my run about a block away from my house, then walk the rest of the way home while looking at my (amazing) splits on my Garmin. I pull an ice cold bottle of Gatorade (purple) out of the fridge and down it gratefully. Steve and Jack have left a note saying they've gone out for pancakes and are proud of me. I grab a protein bar to get some food in me right away, then go upstairs.
I leave my sweaty clothes in a heap on the floor, then ease into a cold bath, which I truly believe helps aid in a faster recovery. I read a brand new issue of Runner's World as I shock my muscles into healing.
Then it's time for a hot shower. The water washes away all of the grime of my run, and I lather myself up with a liberal amount of shower gel, so I smell delicious. I put on a recovery outfit of a comfy running-related t-shirt and if I'm feeling fancy, gym shorts, with a warm, fluffy pair of socks.
Just as I'm dressed, Steve and Jack return home. "Mommy! Did you have a good run?" Jack asks, then tells me that he's tired and wants to take "a little rest in MommyDaddy room and watch a movie." We put in one of his favorite movies, one that I'm not too sick of yet, and snuggle under the covers.
Steve brings me a sandwich and a big glass of ice water. The man makes the greatest sandwiches known to man, taking the time to blot the lettuce and tomato so the bread doesn't get soggy, layering the meat and cheese carefully so that each bite is perfection. Amazing craftsmanship, truly.
After I eat my sandwich, I drift off to sleep. Jack tries a half-hearted, "Open your eyes, Mommy," but mostly focuses on cuddling his little body up to mine.
Once the movie - and my nap - are over, I'm ready to face the rest of the day, a day that hopefully involves Ewan McGreggor.
8 comments:
I feel more rested just from *reading* this post. AWESOME!
Once again your post has made me "awww" internally. I'm guessing every recovery isn't quite as perfect as that one when you're a mommy, but you sure make it sound good! Who needs Ewan McGregor when you have such a doting husband?
A perfectly crafted sandwich and nap. I would hate you if I didn't like you so much. HA. Sounds like heaven to me!!
Oooh, yeah. I could handle a recovery like that! Sounds lovely.
Who needs Ewan when you have Mr. Expert Sandwichmaker? :)
That sounds like heaven! Even the ice bath. My own recovery routine is somewhat similar, except Jack is replaced by my dog Ally, and I have to go out and buy my own sandwich.
I must say that I have become a recent convert to the cold water soak post run. Feels lovely specially when it's hot out there.
Although I'd happily accept Matt Cameron or Bruce Springsteen massaging my feet while they sing to me.
Very very nice... And isn't that the best feeling ever, after a good long run? I mean only second to moviestar / rockstar of choice massaging feet?
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