For the moment, my long runs are closer to what used to be my medium runs. But I did two of them this weekend, so that's got to count for something. Saturday, I trained it up to Westchester with my man to show off my beloved Ridge Run. Good company and distracting conversation made the eleven hilly miles fly by and I could have easily added on a few more.
Instead we decided to save our energies for a Sunday morning run down to Ground Zero as a sort of personal 9/11 memorial run. That was the plan anyway. A late night at my friend Patrick's fabulous uptown music salon postponed the endeavor until well into the afternoon, which meant that our peaceful and meditative early morning run turned into an exhausting and sun scorched, ten-mile ordeal. The first five miles were actually not too bad, but the last three miles or so were much harder than they should have been, even though we were only running at about an 8 1/2 minute pace. I know I'm in decent shape these days, but it's a reminder...never underestimate the power of a hangover.