I woke up today not knowing if it was Sunday, Tuesday or Monday. This leads to a very disorienting few minutes where I'm left trying to figure out if I can sleep in, what time it is, what I'm supposed to wear, and what in the hell I did yesterday. Upon checking my watch I realized that it didn't really matter the day, I could sleep for another few minutes anyway, at which point if an alarm went off I needed to get up. It was weird. I'm not good at the whole disorientation thing in general. But oh well...I finally discerned that it had to be Monday, since I didn't think I worked yesterday and remember watching football before I went to bed. That's about as far as I got when the alarm went off. Problem solved. (Except I think the alarm had already gone off once and I shut it off, thereby increasing the weirdness of not knowing where in the hell I was. It does, however, tell me that I was sleeping like a rock.)
Ran 8.5mi yesterday in about 1:32... It was 23 degrees when we left T's house. I wanted 8 mi, the plan calls for 8mi. But when you run with a sadistic person with higher expectations and unbelievable residual fitness, 8.5 is what you get. Further, when you start to fall apart about halfway into the run, she begins to get quiet to allow you to suffer, adding only the occasional "almost there" and "we're fine" to keep your brain engaged. If you're lucky you can throw in some conversation to distract her from a rabbit's pace and if the Gods smile upon you and bless you with a bit of wind she might even pick on that a bit. But you must beware of the dreaded "barn mode" in which she subconsciously senses being closer to home (or checks the GPS and knows it, or just knows it by looking around) and picks up her pace incrementally to "suicidal". You will all at once notice that you are struggling and the lower half of your body is now angry and convinced beyond doubt that your upper half has launched a coup attempt without informing your legs and allowing them to prepare. Your lungs are fighting with your calves who are fighting with your stomach and your brain is held hostage with little capability of strategizing how to stick your leg out and trip this person who is dragging you along unwittingly. Nonetheless....when you finish the run, it's all good.
It was cold, I was dressed warmly and when turned out of the breeze was almost too warm. Turning back to the wind, however, makes one realize why layers and zippers are good.
Longest run in 3-4 months with only 2 walk breaks (one while I attempted to bring all body systems to the same page of realizing that no one was dying alone). Best yet: I'm fairly sound today, with only a bit of tightness in the hams and calves.
Hello running, I may have missed you. Can you convince my body to metabolize again?
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