nipples.

I — we — had a good morning.

Mrs. Crappy and I set off from the parking lot along the North Shore Trail a little after 9 this morning.

Eight and a half miles later, I returned to the car. Mrs. Crappy? She did five miles, running most of the way.

I am pleased, for a couple reasons. First, this is my longest run to date, and it’s already helped me deal with The Voice I wrote about a few days ago. When the nice woman from Nike Plus told me I hit seven miles, I realized that I was more than halfway towards a half marathon, and I still felt great. Barring an injury, I’m going to get there on May 6.

Next, I did this all on my own. My Saturday running friends have been great at pushing me to distances I probably  wouldn’t have tried had I been running by myself, and part of my frustration that bubbled up last week was with my ability to find reasons to not go out and run five or six in the morning before work — even though I can. Getting to 8.5 on my own felt like I was clearing a huge hurdle.

And finally, I’m so proud of Mrs. Crappy. We didn’t run together — she’s still getting back into it and wants to do that on her own — but she picked a course along the North Shore and ran most of it. And when we got back, we found she had done just over five miles.

There were two things that kept the morning from being perfect. First, the groin continues to be an issue. It was tight from the start, despite extra stretching; I stopped and stretched it several times during the run, and I think that helped. But wow is it sore now.

Aaaand then there’s the title of this post. I mentioned after we volunteered for the 2010 Pittsburgh Marathon that we didn’t see any cases of bleeding nipples at our water station at mile 7.8, although friends told me they saw plenty later in the course. I had thought about the possibility that I might need to take preventative measures once it got warmer and I stopped wearing compression tops under my gear.

Did I do that today? Of course not. And about the time I ran off the 16th Street Bridge and back to the North Shore Trail, I noticed that my chest was stinging, on the right side at first and then on both sides. I knew what it was — and had I been wearing white instead of red, it would have been obvious — but I didn’t look until I got back to the car.

Yep. Bleeding nipples. And let me tell you — bleeding nipples in the shower is a pain quite unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

So. Band-Aids. Nip Guards. And an extra degree of caution until the weather cools again in the fall.

This running stuff is crazy — I hurt, I have injuries and annoyances I never imagined — and I love it.