So my new motto is “why do something half-ass when you can do it three-quarter ass?” Indeed, what kind of wacko eats Whatburger, cookies and peanut butter cups all day, then at midnight goes to the nearest track and does a guilt-ridden workout in the starlit lonliness? I guess the same kind of wacko that wakes up at 5:15 a.m. to do similar sweaty things with fifty smelly strangers.
Yeah, so I missed the workout yesterday morning, couldn’t make it to the evening session either, and drowned the guilt in voluminous quantities of partially hydrogenated preservative corn syrup and a healthy sprinkling of Yellow No. 5. Finally, after the family was all put to sleep, and my belly could expand no more, I badgered myself into going to the track.
The calendar said “2x2000m,3x1000m,4x400m” and that’s what I intended to do, but after the first 2000, my tune changed in the key of a first-class, whiney-ass, belly-aching. So I ended up doing 1x2000m, 2x1000m, 3x400m instead. But hey, it was nearly midnight, my times were respectable, I was alone, and if you throw in the warm up and cool down and the drills and the “active rest” and the walk to and from the car … it comes in around 6 miles total. One neat thing was that since I had the track all to myself, I was able to alternate clockwise and counter-clockwise directions. I think I’d be faster in the southern hemisphere.
For the record:
1000s: 3.45, 3.47
400s: 1.24, 1.19, 1.14
Compare that to my times from last month:
2000s: 7.42, 7.36
1000s: 3.43, 3.43, 3.38
400s: 1.21, 1.19, 1.15, 1.13
Yeah, a little off, but what do you expect from a three-quarter ass wacko? And at least I somewhat reduced my self-loathing, replacing it with a mild self-disgust.