August 31, 2006
the less fitterer
My legs feel like ass. My ass feels more like legs than my legs do.
Everything from knee to sole is sore or tight or tight-sore. Both legs. In the hot humid predawn I struggle to break nine-minute miles. And this week has been devoid of workouts since Sunday's hilly meltdown, so I have no excuse. My Number One goal in my whole entire life is to get enough sleep, to grab it whenever I can and hoard it. Today I worked from home and in lieu of lunch I took a nap; even after seven hours' sleep last night I still slept hard this noon until the alarm woke me up. Number Two goal is to find a comfortable sitting position, and Number Three is to get enough to drink and eat while I am not sleeping or running very slowly. Goal Number Four is to get through whatever running the Schedule says I'm supposed to do.
I've got a 15K Saturday morning in Ohrrlahnndho for which I must get up at something like 3:15 so I can get awake and functional enough to drive the 90 minutes over there. I have no idea what to shoot for. I love the distance, but I have always run it in fall or winter, and my PR was set in February in 55F weather. One might think I am in better shape now than I was in February, but then again, maybe not.
August 27, 2006
it feels so late in the day
It feels so late in the day. Maybe it's because I got up at 3:45 this morning, or maybe it's because I'm so tired lately. Or maybe because it's August, which in Florida is the month where you become sure you just can't take it anymore.
I'd hope to return from a 3-week blogging hiatus with a cheery, positive entry, but if I'm gonna blog today - and I swore to myself I was gonna - it won't be so damn cheery. I'm at the point in marathon training where I doubt the training, and I hate the training, and I'm tired all the time and besieged with little aches and pains, and I can't see the point in killing myself to run just a few seconds faster (or slower) than I did this time last year.
Anyway, the past few weeks have gone 80-88-78, and have included some long runs, some road repeats (5x1200, 4x1mile), some hills, some botched/bailed MP stuff, a few amazingly nice runs, and a 5K. Last Sunday we had a freaky break in the weather and a bunch of us ran way faster than usual and then went to breakfast to celebrate our friend Aaron's going off to college. Yesterday I raced my first 5K since last October and ran about 9 seconds off my PR. Sure, my training has nothing to do with 5Ks, but still I thought that with all the running I've done in the past year, I'd somehow magically be faster. So much for magic.
This morning I had a spectacularly bad hill run in with some friends who run much faster than I do (or should). I was supposed to run 18. By 13 I was toast, and by 16.5 Albert ordered, "stop here and I'll get the car" and there was no argument from me. I think he was sick of hearing me breathe so hard. I sat down and got the most exquisite cramp in my right arch.
So I'm still trying not to be negative, but it looks like a hurricane is going to hit us Thursday.
August 6, 2006
the week in running
joe positive-style, that is:
Su: 20.05mi (8:49)
M: 8.1mi (8:50)
T: 15.1mi (8:45)
W: 9.5mi incl road repeats - 6x800 (avg 2:59), ~.25mi very slow jog recovery
R: 10mi (9:59), ha!
F: 10.26mi (9:43), and ha!
Sa: 13mi (8:46) incl 10x100m strides
total: 86 miles
The road repeats consisted of 6x[some distance I had measured out twice with the GPS to be a half-mile], with [finish-to-start, some distance roughly a quarter-mile] very very slow jogging recovery. Since I had already measured the "800" I did not look at my GPS for speed or distance indicators during the repeats. I just made sure to 1) run it like an 800 and 2) start and stop in the same place every time, leaving the analysis and self-flagellation for later. The way it panned out was
So it wasn't quite the triumph, but I was happy with it, especially considering that the goal time had been 3:00-3:10 for real 800s. These days, after so many weeks of big slow sloggy mileage, I'm happy with any workout where I can actually get my legs going.
This coming week is a cutback to 80 miles (yay!), and includes a 20-mile progression run (already done, sorta), a 12-miler with 6 tempo miles in the middle, and maybe a 4-mile race next Saturday.
August 3, 2006
39000 steps to recovery
I don't believe in magic or the supernatural. I wish I believed in God, but I'm just not sure if I do. Last night I had the strangest, most awful dream. It had very little of the coyness that comes with dreams. There was next to no symbolism; almost nothing was left to interpretation and it was just a harsh, flat, realistic landscape of a dream. I dreamed my recently-deceased friend had told me he was going to kill himself, and I spent the whole dream chasing him down imploring him not to. The only vaguely symbolic thing was a marathon that my friend's girlfriend and I were running together; somehow I knew the outcome before the race was over (and it was a 3:05 or 3:06, ha). The race was an out-n-back and as we neared the turnaround we saw my friend coming back at us. We were surprised to see him because we thought he'd already made up his mind to kill himself. It turned out he was running to whereever it was he was going to die. I threw my arms around him and cried and begged, "please, please, don't do this to me," thinking the idea that his suicide might hurt other people might finally sway him. But he held fast. Other jumbledness: something about a baseball game (one had been on TV when I fell asleep last night), and having to hide all this sadness from my friend's brother and sister-in-law, who were at the game.
I opened my eyes and saw 4:30 on the clock, groaned "oh god" to that god I don't know well. I had road repeats (6x800) this morning, I warmed up 4 miles and wondered whether the thunderstorm just west of us would roll in. It didn't, and I somehow ended up completing all 6 repeats and averaging 2:59, and during the last 2 items the thunderstorm blew icy wind at me just when I needed it most.
I don't mean to dwell on all this, especially here in blogland. Things really are beginning to start to appear to be inching toward getting better, most of the time.