Motion = lotion

Recently, my foot began to hurt a bit. Right where a big, fat callous has taken permanent residence on my right heel. I began feeling it walking and running, bummer.

Since I never actually look at my feet, apparently, nor do I spend money often on pedicures because I am kind of cheap, I was surprised that, upon close inspection, it had cracked and even bled a little. Gross!

I have a running friend, Andie, who seems to know natural remedies for everything. (Though she, more wisely than me, gets regular pedicures). She suggested Bag Balm, which is this stinky Vermont concoction that is used on chapped cow udders.

After recently purchasing the frumpiest and most comfortable Merrell shoes ever, buying this has convinced me I am not only getting older, I am apparently catapulting into old ladydom. Sigh.

Smelly, but effective

So, over the weekend, as I lotioned my poor feet with this stuff, I voyeuristically followed the progress of a few people, one of whom I've met through Facebook, as they did what they called the #worldslongestturkeytrot.

As in, they ran 100 miles from Milwaukee to Chicago's famous "bean" sculpture downtown.

I know, what the hell, right?

They made it.

Chicago's Cloudgate, aka "the bean"

They're seasoned ultrarunners. With one ultra under my belt as of nearly three weeks ago, I'm still very much a wide-eyed newbie.

When I told my husband about what they had done, he asked me if I thought that sounded like something I would like to do.

I couldn't lie -- there *is* something appealing about doing it -- no fanfare, no support. Just running with someone who knows what they're doing, stopping every so often to eat, etc, and keep moving.

Yeah, I don't know why this stuff appeals to my brain.

Kind of like when I recently asked my 5-year-old, M-man, if he thought he could be good at school the next day. His response as he shrugged his tiny shoulders: "I don't know, you tell me."

I grew up a non-runner who had no intention of running unless I had to.

Though at times running, if briefly, fascinated me, like the 1980s movie Wildcats with Goldie Hawn. Struggling to gain to respect because she is a female football coach, she challenges her cocky high school guys to see who can last the longest running on the track (click here for clip of that scene). They whoop and holler and lap her at first, but at the end they drop an she keeps going, steady and sure -- eventually revealing that she had run the Boston marathon -- twice. Yeah, it's a silly movie. But I never forgot that scene. I was in awe that you could just keep running and not drop from exhaustion.

And I love bad 80s movies.

So, wow, these folks ran 100 miles. Two days later, I see in Strava one of the 100-mile runners posted a short run. I was like, whoa! How can you run just two days after that kind of pounding on your body?!

His response was "motion is lotion".

I knew what he meant.

After my ultra, I was sore but surprisingly not bad. I was pretty tired at first but have felt fine since. After 15 miles the first post-race week, I ran 35 miles last week, the second post-race week, and felt good. (We had a 50-degree day on Sunday -- how could I not run?)

It feels good to return to moving. There's a real risk of over-doing it -- I've seen others jump back into it too quickly and they're chronically injured. 

But there's something about moving again.

Which makes total sense. Babies in the womb are calm when their mamas are moving around. We wanted to be rocked and held as children. As teenagers and young adults, many of us want to go, go, go. 

After the birth of my kids, my goal was to walk normally again ASAP -- as in, I want to deliver the baby and then walk down the hall for a Diet Coke. (Doesn't quite work that way, but I was usually moving within hours). 

I have a printer in my office that works fine but I often print stuff on the printer on another side of the floor, just so I can get out of my chair and walk. Our office assistant recently told me the printer had been moved much closer to my office because of an office reorganization. I'm a little bummed and already miss my little walks.

The runner's comment on Strava reminded me how good we feel when we move, no matter how tired or beat up we are.

And happy!

P.S. My feet feel fabulous!