Tuesday- 5 miles. A fairly boring route at normal cruisin' pace on flat roads. Not exactly a life changing experience. 7:30ish pace. womp woooomp(imagine a trombone making that noise...yeah).
Thursday- 10 miles. Even flatter than Tuesday. Running country blocks is a bit boring. Lifting my eyes up to see the flat road disappear into the horizon makes a ten miler feel longer. While I was wallowing in my self pitty, I realized that a sunny December jog through a quiet farm country could be quite a bit worse. I hadn't eaten or drank anything all day(it was one of those purgatory type days where hours slip away like minutes), and still managed to go run 10 miles at an even(albeit 8:00+) pace.
Friday- 20 miles. I woke up craving a little adventure, so I packed up my backpack with a bladder full of water, a few GUs, my trekking poles, and some chocolate. After a week of being down about my poor training, I realized that I hadn't done one of my favorite training routines in quite some time. The long slow run was once the crux of my regimen. Now it's all been short and fast, hardly the type of running that needs to be done when one wants to cover 100miles over nasty terrain.
I just tucked my watch in my coat sleeve(I only brought it to measure total distance and keep an eye on the time), tossed on my intentionally heavy backpack, and jogged North. My legs were stiff and sore, but I had faith they would loosen up. At about mile 7, they finally did. Just plodded along at what turned out to be about 10-10:30 pace when running, and the occasional hiking just for the sake of slowing down and taking it in.
|Coyotes have been hassling my goat...and I recently watched The Book of Eli,|
so I may or may not have brought an unnecessarly large knife.
|a little winter grayness|