So I totally skipped yesterday's run, and I'm not going to pretend that playing ping pong for three hours makes up for a missed maintenance run. Still I wouldn't trade it. I got to play against each of the kids multiple times, and I can see already that my title as emperor of the ping pong table has a limited run. So I'm going to gloat while I can, and when my reign comes to an end, I'm going to fake an injury and walk nobly away from the table forever.
Today, I drove over to the rec center with plans to run a tempo workout on the treadmill. I like the idea of the tempo run, but, of course, the treadmill still sounds like the iron maiden in a lot of ways. Now I hate to complain, but we have had a family membership since the middle of December and have tried to make it to the gym at least once both weeks since we've been enrolled -- you'd think they'd call us if they were going to be closed on a weekday.
I was disappointment, because, like I say, I prefer an itinerary. If I had a calendar big enough, I'd already know what I was going to have for dinner this time next year. I have, as a result, on many occasions, shrugged my shoulders and walked away from a missed workout, grumping about not being able to run how, where, or when I wanted to, sticking my tongue out at the running universe (I called it the runiverse for a spell, but that never caught on), and watching television instead.
Today, I decided to go out for an hour. It was cold and dark, so I had to chose a route accordingly. I thought about running my hill-repeat workout, but the sidewalk is missing . . . well, it's missing sidewalk in a lot of places, and the run is not very well lit, so I didn't feel safe making that run. There's another hill very close by as well. It's about the same elevation change, but probably about half as long (therefor probably about twice as steep). I could make a loop that is just shy of a mile with that hill, so I thought I would run that loop for an hour, and see how my splits lined up after the fact.
On my first loop, I bumped into a group of young folks, I don't know, late teenish, and they creeped me out, standing next to a graveyard as they were. Had they been smoking cigarettes, had they reeked of beer, I would have felt less put out.
I decided not to run passed them again. Instead, I ran up and down eight hills, some longer than my repeat and less severe, others shorter and steeper. In the meantime, I tried to maintain a pace slightly more intense than my maintenance pace.
It was a great run. Truly great -- I ran all through this little town, up and down a dozen streets in a pattern I cannot normally run (this is a college town, and most of the students have gone away for winter break, so the streets are pretty empty, the bars are pretty empty, uptown is calm). I ran some hills I haven't run for a long time. I ran some hills I've never run. I kept a steady pace.
Before I was done with my run, I'd forgotten all about the rec center, and I hadn't thought once about what I would post on the blog -- maybe it was the total lack preparedness that allowed me this kind of running Zen. I am willing to admit that much.
Still, I prefer the preparedness.
Today, I drove over to the rec center with plans to run a tempo workout on the treadmill. I like the idea of the tempo run, but, of course, the treadmill still sounds like the iron maiden in a lot of ways. Now I hate to complain, but we have had a family membership since the middle of December and have tried to make it to the gym at least once both weeks since we've been enrolled -- you'd think they'd call us if they were going to be closed on a weekday.
I was disappointment, because, like I say, I prefer an itinerary. If I had a calendar big enough, I'd already know what I was going to have for dinner this time next year. I have, as a result, on many occasions, shrugged my shoulders and walked away from a missed workout, grumping about not being able to run how, where, or when I wanted to, sticking my tongue out at the running universe (I called it the runiverse for a spell, but that never caught on), and watching television instead.
Today, I decided to go out for an hour. It was cold and dark, so I had to chose a route accordingly. I thought about running my hill-repeat workout, but the sidewalk is missing . . . well, it's missing sidewalk in a lot of places, and the run is not very well lit, so I didn't feel safe making that run. There's another hill very close by as well. It's about the same elevation change, but probably about half as long (therefor probably about twice as steep). I could make a loop that is just shy of a mile with that hill, so I thought I would run that loop for an hour, and see how my splits lined up after the fact.
On my first loop, I bumped into a group of young folks, I don't know, late teenish, and they creeped me out, standing next to a graveyard as they were. Had they been smoking cigarettes, had they reeked of beer, I would have felt less put out.
I decided not to run passed them again. Instead, I ran up and down eight hills, some longer than my repeat and less severe, others shorter and steeper. In the meantime, I tried to maintain a pace slightly more intense than my maintenance pace.
It was a great run. Truly great -- I ran all through this little town, up and down a dozen streets in a pattern I cannot normally run (this is a college town, and most of the students have gone away for winter break, so the streets are pretty empty, the bars are pretty empty, uptown is calm). I ran some hills I haven't run for a long time. I ran some hills I've never run. I kept a steady pace.
Before I was done with my run, I'd forgotten all about the rec center, and I hadn't thought once about what I would post on the blog -- maybe it was the total lack preparedness that allowed me this kind of running Zen. I am willing to admit that much.
Still, I prefer the preparedness.
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