Gimme back my Quads!

Gimme back my Quads!
Who took my quads?
Ok – who ever took my quads, if you bring them back there will be no questions asked. Just leave them in a brown paper bag in the back of my old truck. There will be no recrimination and I won’t rat you out to the quad squad. If you could get them back to me before my next race, that would be cool too.
It’s been three weeks since I ran that 50 mile ultra in the mountains of VT. It’s never taken more than 7 days for me to heal from a race. Even some of the most evilly bad Boston’s are just a bad memory within a week. Something strange is going on here.
I didn’t struggle in that Ultra and on the whole thought it was pretty mild, but here I am 3 weeks later and my quads are missing.
I ‘raced’ a hilly 9.5 miler today. I took off strong at my 10k pace but by the 3rd mile of steep up hills and down hills my quads were done. I let my pack go and fell into a ‘save face’ pace. What the @#$%? A paltry 9.5 miles and I’ve got to work it like a calculus problem to finish under 8-minute miles?
Other than the quads all the other lights on the control panel were green. Plenty of energy. Lots of pop in the other muscles. Heart rate fine. Lungs fine. No quads.
It was like someone borrowed my quads while I was sleeping last night and took them for a joy ride. Or swapped them out with the quads of an octogenarian. If they borrowed them, then they spent the night doing hill charges. So strange.
I managed to tough it out but it’s hard to run a trail race without quads.
I miss them because they were quite a big part of my running arsenal. I’ve never been fast but I’ve always had leg strength. With my ‘sturdy frame’ I rely on leg strength. I like passing those skinny guys. I grind by them on the up hills and on the down hills, when gravity is my friend; I storm by like an out of control rhino.
Maybe I can borrow some quads until I find mine? Does anyone have a spare set out in the garage behind the old golf cubs? Let me know.
If you see my quads tell them I miss them. Tell them to come home. I will hold no grudge – all is forgiven. Maybe you’ll find them hanging out down behind the 7-11 smoking cigarettes with my balky Piriformis. Tell them to come home because I need them. Call my cell phone anytime.
Whoever absconded with my quads please bring them back. We can make a deal. I’ll give you 3 pairs of old running shoes and 15 long sleeve cotton race tees. Come on, have a heart, I don’t know if I can go on without them.
See you out there,
C-,
Chris Russell lives and trains in suburban Massachusetts with his family and Border collie Buddy. Chris is the author of “The Mid-Packer’s Lament”, short stories on running, racing, and the human comedy of the mid-pack. Chris writes the Runnerati Blog at www.runnerati.com. Chris’ Podcast, RunRunLive is available on iTunes and at www.runrunlive.com. Chris also writes for CoolRunning.com (Active.com) and is a member of the Squannacook River Runners. ChrisRunner@runrunlive.com