He said, "Son, I've made a life
Out of readin' people's faces
Knowin' what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes
So if you don't mind my sayin'
I can see you're out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey
I'll give you some advice"
So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done
Sometimes I know when to run. I don't always know when to fold 'em, however. But I think I did today.
Saturday was a "good" day at Buckeye Woods. I ran two on my own, followed by five with Debbie Scheel, followed by five with Debbie and Jan Frandsen, followed by some more by myself. Although the initial twelve were fine, I don't always do so well when everyone else leaves me on my own. But this time, with six more to go to be able to call it a long run, things actually did go well. I did three loops around the wetlands, plus some more before and after to get those six. I managed to pick up the pace fairly nicely during this stretch. All's well that ends well. Where have we heard this before?
Sunday did not end so well. I got six in outside before the cold rain got to be too much for me. So I did a couple more on the mill. All in all, the miles were progressively less great. And for the third week in a row, I came close, but could not quite exceed 80 miles.
Monday's slog on the mill was also not so good. In fact, it was worse. What is it about Mondays?
This takes us to today. It's been a few weeks, but today was the day: back to the track. I thought about doing five one-mile repeats. Then I thought about six. Then two 3-mile tempo runs. Then six by one-mile again. Then five again. Miles one through five were pretty much just the right amount of effort and difficulty. I think I could have done one more. But I chose not to. Home I went, leaving something (albeit not much) on the track.
Makes me seem pretty darn smart, right? Not so fast (said the old guy who's current speedwork is like yesterday's slog). Those five did indeed take a lot out of me. It's probably a real good thing that I didn't go for six.
This Sunday it's Buckeye Woods (the real race). Well, almost real - we're keeping it even more low-key than ever due to COVID safety concerns. It's just come and run, anytime you want. I'm still going to go for 50K. This will still be reasonably important for me, however. I will try not to fold 'em.
