Tuns out, people who say that aren't exactly wishing you well.
In fact, mud in your eye pretty much hurts.
And it lingers.
If you have, say, a couple tablespoons of mud in your eye, twice, no matter what you do to try to rinse it out, some of it stays in there.
It turns your eyelids into frequently moving bits of wet sandpaper. That's sandpaper ON YOUR EYES.
Eventually, like 24-hours worth of eventually, it gets worked out by some magical eye process invovling tears and probably Brownian motion. Oh, and when you reach up to flick away the eye guck that this process builds up next to your nose, be really careful not to break that tiny little mudball, 'cause it will just go right back into your eye. And that hurts like a mutha!
So my day and evening went, red-eyed as a wake-and-baker.
Next year, I'm wearing goggles.
Oh, and there was the faint smell of mud following me around all day. Post-hose-down, post-shower, I could still smell it. Wrote it off as some sort of sensory echo, like when you wear a hat for a long time and take it off, feels like it's still there.
Nope. After innumerable nose-blowings, at 10:30p I dug out two especially stubborn gobs of mud from my nose. Yep, mud boogers.
This morning, I found out, to my great surprise, that most of my muscles had turned to granite overnight.
I really don't like being reminded that I'm not as young as I feel. Nor that I haven't been to the gym as often as I should. But mostly the old-age one.
Stepping back, though, I'm lucky to be healthy enough to do something that I can regret the next day. And as much as I creaked and moaned today, I was mobile enough to get a (short) run in. And stretch. Lots of stretching.
This week, I need to get to the gym...
Numbers: 1.4 easy miles of grass and trail.