Friday, August 12, 2011

Week 11 and a Crazy Sub-Culture

Week 11 and I’m still on target for training.
Other than missing a shorter weekend run, some daily body kinks, and tenderness on the pad on the base of my small toe on my left foot (if you can follow that), I’ve been running healthy.
Before I get into how the training is progressing, I need to mention an early morning runner’s nemesis: The newspaper deliverers. This is a vibrant sub-culture that is not as wicked as...
zombies or vampires, but they do exist. Deliverers are hell-bent on breaking their paper delivering PRs (personal records). Running stop signs and driving on the wrong side of the road are in their repertoire like runners cutting turns tight to shave race course seconds. At least when runners race on the wrong side of the road, the road is closed.
I’m not “on the inside” of this group so I don’t know why they are so “driven.” It’s not like they are getting pizza to its rightful owner before it gets cold or the subscriber is standing on their doorstep, tapping a foot anxiously on a weekend morning wondering how their team played the day before.  I’ll need to ask what motivates them if they slow down enough before the sun breaks the horizon. They seem to disappear before dawn. That’s too creepy. Don’t become like a bug on a windshield. Be cautious when on the road or crossing intersections.
Yesterday morning the intent was to complete an easy run instead of the faster tempo because I was feeling tired the day before, but the temperature was too perfect: 62 degrees and my legs felt fast. I couldn’t resist. I completed the 6 mile tempo wedged between easy miles on each end. The average pace was 7:08, which included some hills. I always have trouble holding back, which can be detrimental to my training.
I moved house during the past couple of weeks in the heat and humidity, so quite frankly I don’t know how I’ve maintained the training. This past weekend was brutal.  It was my first weekend of scheduled back-to-back 3-4 hour runs. I ran 3 hours on Saturday morning, moved all day Saturday, then 3:02 on Sunday afternoon. The 3:02 was just to prove that I could run longer. That’s the overachiever in me coming out.
On Sunday the heat index was 94 in the shade. I can’t imagine what it was in the sun on the pavement. It was so bad that at one point I thought I had seen a person on a horse on the road. Now that’s crazy and a new experience; not one I want to have again. Since I knew the run would be taxing, I took the 64 ounce hydration pack. Boy, was I was pounding down the water.  During the last 15 minutes an emergency call was placed. As much as it should have been for my broken down body or my hallucinations, it was for water. I called Jenn, my wife. My savior arrived with the liquid gold just in time. Total weekend miles: 38.3.

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