Long Time, No Post

So, I got hit by a bike last night.

I was crossing a street that isn't usually very busy, but at this time had sixty smart cars careening around in every direction. I needed a bit more awareness than usual, but I ultimately crossed the road without any problems. Of course, the result of such an easier-than-anticipated street navigation was that as soon as I hit the opposite sidewalk, I simply stopped paying attention. This is pretty dangerous since, as you know, in Germany the sidewalk isn't just for side-walkers. As soon as I stretched myself forward in a sinewy lunge towards athletic greatness, I got plowed into like the frog in Frogger. It didn't hurt, really. I mostly remember a series of slow snaphots in which a big headed coed was coming from my right, then she was suddenly near me, then she was more or less on top of me. This was all accompanied by our harmonious screaming in really loud German. I sort of had to hold onto her to keep her from flying off the bike, and she yelled at me for running in the dark with headphones on. Because apparently I'm more visible without them. And I see better as well.

Anyway, as I IM'd with the Pavement Pounder about this last night, it occcured to me that as I was helping this girl back into an upright/riding position, I was actually holding onto her pretty tight (hell, bodies in motion, inertia, startled suddennes...it was physics! Physics, I say!). Sooooo, now my face is probably plastered on some German Hollaback blog as the American pervert who runs around campus, trying to get female students to run over him...

So I got that going for me.

AH, other than that, I finally calibrated my Nike+iPod. I don't know how it went, because A) I cut my run short after said incident, and B) said incident "altered my stride" for a bit. I'm going to go out again today after it stops raining and test it then. I have to. Chantelle gets in today and Cologne shuts down for the next few days because of Karneval. Once again, I'll be putting the drunk back into drunk runners...
BUT, it's okay if I slack a bit. BECAUSE:

1) Last week was my first 20 mile week since the marathon. It went well. 20 miles is a long ways apparently, because it wore my ass out. But the weather was mostly fantastic, and the legs held up well. The only drawback is that over the course of the last four days I ate every cookie, croissant, and piece of cake within a fifteen mile radius of our house, justifying it by saying "Fuck. I ran 20 miles this week. I can eat anything." As a result, I burned almost 3000 extra calories from exercise,and probably still put on 2 pounds.

2) I crowned the big week with a big run. Sunday I managed 10.3 miles, when it looked for a little bit like I wouldn't get 2. It was raining, it was cold, and I pretty much was ready to pack it in and save it for Monday, when the weather improved a little. I decided to shoot for 6 miles, but everything kept getting better; There were blue skies, a hint of something that was almost warmth, and my legs started to untie themselves from the crazy tight knots that kept them from moving in the first two miles. I just kept going, and going, and going, and then I stopped. Um, because I was home. I was pleased. Very pleased. Pleased and broken.