No part of me hurts, but I am running so slowly, I'll probably never get to ten. Ten is often the goal, as it has been for years, Ten is the difference between a serious and a not-so-serious effort. Daily tens adds up to seventy for a week, or sixty with one day off. (Editor's note: things don't usually work out exacticaly that way, but even so 60-70 miles a week has been fairly doable.)
Back to the slow part. It's not like I don't have the time. I have nothing but. But I also manage to get more and more tired, to the point of possibly not finishing, when I go this slow. The other concern would be increasing traffic in normal times. But these are not normal times.
What to do? Even as my olde injuries have faded, the old age hasn't. One possible reason for the fatigue is the 58 miles I've run in the past 5 days. That's a bunch. And some of them have even been at not so bad paces. I do occasional speedwork and tempo runs. Now some of this has been on the mill, but I still think it's safe to say that I'm running fairly well. Just not today. I head home after only four miles.
It's been a stinker. But wait. Maybe I can get on the mill. I climb on the thing, turn on the tv, and party on. The party continues for - surprise - six more miles.
It's a bit unnatural, but I'll call it ten. Again.
No comments:
Post a Comment