The Fun Bell Has Rung

Here are good examples of the tents that were all over the track this past Saturday.

Let’s make it official; my Saturday runs are no longer fun.

I know there are some of you that swear by running, that it’s wonderful, it helps you clear your mind, it increases your energy, blah, blah blah.  Truth is, you have a mental disease.  You are kind of like the people that have Alzheimers; they are sick, but they just don’t know it.  You running lovers have this same problem.  I am still healthy enough to know better.

My runs are starting to get longer.  Saturdays are my speed days; I go to a track, and run like a freaking banshee for much too long.  Yesterday I warmed up for 2.25 miles, then ran 6 half-mile intervals at a 3:20 pace, then cooled down with 1 mile.  (The whole time, I was dodging a bunch of lacrosse teams whose parents deemed the running track the best place to set up their spectator tents.  How silly of me to think that the track was for running, and the grass for tents and chairs.  It’s like they think their tax dollars went towards that track or something.  But I digress.)

I got home.  I was very sweaty, I was very tired, I was very hungry, and pretty much just grumpy.  I have to admit, Boston was not motivating at that point…just about the only thing that sounded motivating was sitting in fetal position in a cool, quiet place, eating lots of food, and sleeping for like 4 days.

My total distance this week was 31 miles.  That is continuing to climb each week.  Most of my workouts are 45-60 minutes long and burn between 800 and 1000 calories.  This is hard work.

So, I’ll worry about a good attitude tomorrow.  Today, I am going to consciously wallow in self pity lol.

For all of you running lovers, we need to find you treatment.

Until the next post!

I am Skinny and Fast!

Peace and love, everybody.  Peace and love.

I’m skinny!  I’m fast!

I’m kidding!

Let’s be honest, no one has ever accused me of being the skinny type.  That title is reserved for my older brother Jeremy, who is my same height but 60 pounds lighter (and weaker, I tell him).  But I have dropped 2 or 3 pounds over the past month or so, and I am slowly losing my baby fat that I’ve gained over the past few years.

This past Tuesday was my long run.  Normally I do those runs on asphalt, but this time, I went to a track and ran 7 miles.  I didn’t feel like circling through the neighborhood 5 times (I think that kind of freaks out the ladies that are out for their evening stroll) and I wanted to try running on a flatter surface, so off to the track we went.

Now, mind you, my long runs are also “easy” runs, meaning that I don’t try and push the pace.  I just focus on my form, breathing, etc. and just run.  Since we were at the track and it was easy to measure the distance, I had Tammy yell out my mile time.  8:15, what?  Then on my next mile, 8:15, WHAT?  I thought my “easy” mile times were around 9:30 or so.  I pulled back and took a really comfortable pace (8:45) for the last 5 miles, but I was elated that I felt so good.  Back when I first started training, I did one 7:45 mile and was exhausted at the end.

So, anyway.  Am I some miracle runner from Kenya that runs 3 minute miles and laughs while doing so?  No.  But I’m seeing some definite progress in my strength, endurance, and speed.  It’s exciting.  I haven’t missed an exercise day during my 6 weeks of training (other than two days I took off due to knee pain in early May).  My knees seem to be holding up.  We have quite a ways to go to reach 7 minute miles but I have a growing glimmer of hope that it may just be possible!

And, a note about my wife Tammy.  She has been my faithful personal cheerleader on Saturdays, helping me time my intervals for speed training.  She’s been awesome to encourage me and be invested in my goal.  She's 8 1/2 months pregnant and I am excited for our little boy to arrive (he’s due June 24), but I’m a bit sad to lose her on my training runs for a while as she tends to our little one.  Thanks Tammy!

Talk to you all soon!

Please take a moment to admire my shoes (and calves).