New guy Steve wisely calls it a day after the first loop, but now Julie, Shannon, Debbie, Kelly, Katherine, and I were joined by Sarah and Theresa. In case you're bad at math, that's seven lovely ladies... and me. I'm not thinking too very much about these gender issues (although the subject does arise in the conversation). I'm thinking of just getting through today's planned long run. It's getting quite warm as we begin our second six. Now, it gets serious.
As for excuses, I have a bunch. Would you like to hear them? Of course, you would. Yesterday's run at Mugrage was as soupy as it gets. Seven miles did me in for the day. So did the afternoon yard work and beer sampling. This morning had started with an attempt to guzzle beet juice and coffee. Neither went down well. I was still not entirely good when we started our 5:00 A.M. run on this warm and humid Friday.
A half-mile or so into this second loop, I begin to feel like myself again. Maybe the beet juice and caffeine are starting to kick in. I try to take the lead at times so that I can slow everyone down (we're on the Lester Rail Trail, which isn't exactly narrow, but you can't have more than two or three abreast). Other times, the faster folk take over and it's all I can do to stay with them. That's all kind of normal with this bunch.
What isn't quite so normal is me hitting the wall at around mile eleven. I drastically slow down, and I watch everyone slowly get smaller and nearly disappear in front of me. My pace goes from around 9:30 minutes per mile to 11 and then to 12. It's all I can do to shuffle back to the trailhead. I am done done (I used to use this terminology to refer to a work project as really and truly finished). I say goodbye and good luck to the intrepid three-loopers.
Like junkies trying to plan their next hit of drugs, just minutes after a bad trip, Julie and I immediately begin plotting our next attempt at a long run: two loops at Hinckley this Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment