...no no I havent gone nuts and filled up with lactic yet. The Recovery (after three years off running battling PF) is still in its infancy and I am being careful. What the post title refers to is my trying out an old trail of mine this morning and finding out way way too late that it was now ever-increasingly full of Stinging Nettles. Before I knew it, it made more sense to plow through than turn back. Result? Even after a rub with dockleaves and some lotion, LEGS ON FIRE all day. But here is the good thing: it reminded me of all those boring meetings I have sat through over the years, at law firms, government offices or faculty rooms, where I've been kept awake and ever so slightly smug by nettle rash from a muddy ten miler that morning...and the quiet consciousness that I Did Something that day, so no matter what else happens or doesn't, I got some good miles in the bank.
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