Today’s blog is only for tracking my workouts. Yesterday we did Meriden, a hilly little neighborhood course of 1000m or so. I didn’t feel too strong. I did four repeats. Times: Unknown, 4:14, 4:09, 4:01. After the fourth, Gilbert joked, “you need to move up to the fast group.” Whatever. I saw their times and I’m nowhere near them. We finished with 5 forward sprints up the hill and 3 backwards up the hill. I tried to keep good form on all of them but petered out at the top on all of them.
Today I tried to do a “recovery run”. Normally I would ride my bike, but it’s missing a back tire, so at lunch I went out for a run around my neighborhood. I didn’t take my watch or gped-pedometer my route because, I told myself, I just wanted to run for running’s sake. How about dying for dying’s sake? Maybe it was the PB&J and milk I gulped down right before the run, maybe I’m still fatigued from my triathlon last week, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the workout yesterday, maybe it was the impending, uh, bathroom break I needed the whole way, but whatever the reason, I absolutely blew up today. I started out slow, slowed even more, shuffled the middle in just over a walk, stopped for a drink at the fountain in the park, and finally, about 1/2mile from home, kicked myself in the a** to pick it up at least a smidgen. I really think I ran about 3.5mi in about 40 minutes. My buttocks were tight the entire run. My mental state was baaaad. I noticed that it’s too easy to get lulled into a bad zone while plodding along, and it can take a swift mental whipping to get yourself out of it. When I finally got home, I alternated between the floor and the bathroom for the next 2 hours or so. Not fun.
1000s on the track in the morning…. we’ll see.
