Here's another three-day post to catch us all up to speed on my mid-life running adventures. I took yesterday off from running. It was a planned day off, though it really should have been my tenth-day long run. I chose, instead, to spend some time with any kid who walked away from a computer for a few minutes, to tidy up the house a bit, to cook some sauerkraut, to nap on the couch -- it was a good day to rest.
The day before, New Year's Eve, as it happened, I let the crapradoodle drag me around my 3.4 mile maintenance loop (38:04) slow, slow, slowly. I was tired from a long year. That speed was just about all I could manage, all I wanted to manage, but that's fine for a maintenance run, I suppose. One of the biggest mistakes I've made too many times is feeling a desperate need to push too hard on my maintenance runs, leaving me pooped for my more intense runs that then are unfulfilling. I consider it a success in no uncertain terms that, as I approach middle age, I'm starting to recognize my limitations.
Or maybe I'm just wimpy. I accept that possibility as well.
Today, I met a friend for a brisk walk / run. He's trying to get back into running, and I had my long run slated for today, so I ran over to his house (20:00), ran and walked with him (30:00), and ran a winding way home (55:00) -- I don't know what the mileage is, nor do I particularly care. It was nice to be out (even if the weather was the worst so far this season), and it was nice to spend some time with my friend.
There was a moment after the walk / run that I considered bailing on the rest of my own workout, thinking that I could get home in twenty minutes and have more time for my other responsibilities of the day, and this was compelling. I think I could have still felt good about myself -- on the other hand, this would have meant that my long run for this week would have been little more than a maintenance run. I put the other stuff out of my mind and ran for as long as I could (I did, after all, have to give a kid a ride).
Still, I can't help but recognize in myself my tendencies to extremes -- if I can go for a run, I want it to be an insanely difficult run. If I can't go for a run, I want to eat six pieces of cheesecake and drink too much wine. One of the greatest challenges of my running (as well as writing, sleeping, working life) has been finding and maintaining moderation.
Post Script: Thanks, Z and M, for the cheesecake last night. My half of it was delicious.
The day before, New Year's Eve, as it happened, I let the crapradoodle drag me around my 3.4 mile maintenance loop (38:04) slow, slow, slowly. I was tired from a long year. That speed was just about all I could manage, all I wanted to manage, but that's fine for a maintenance run, I suppose. One of the biggest mistakes I've made too many times is feeling a desperate need to push too hard on my maintenance runs, leaving me pooped for my more intense runs that then are unfulfilling. I consider it a success in no uncertain terms that, as I approach middle age, I'm starting to recognize my limitations.
Or maybe I'm just wimpy. I accept that possibility as well.
Today, I met a friend for a brisk walk / run. He's trying to get back into running, and I had my long run slated for today, so I ran over to his house (20:00), ran and walked with him (30:00), and ran a winding way home (55:00) -- I don't know what the mileage is, nor do I particularly care. It was nice to be out (even if the weather was the worst so far this season), and it was nice to spend some time with my friend.
There was a moment after the walk / run that I considered bailing on the rest of my own workout, thinking that I could get home in twenty minutes and have more time for my other responsibilities of the day, and this was compelling. I think I could have still felt good about myself -- on the other hand, this would have meant that my long run for this week would have been little more than a maintenance run. I put the other stuff out of my mind and ran for as long as I could (I did, after all, have to give a kid a ride).
Still, I can't help but recognize in myself my tendencies to extremes -- if I can go for a run, I want it to be an insanely difficult run. If I can't go for a run, I want to eat six pieces of cheesecake and drink too much wine. One of the greatest challenges of my running (as well as writing, sleeping, working life) has been finding and maintaining moderation.
Post Script: Thanks, Z and M, for the cheesecake last night. My half of it was delicious.
No comments:
Post a Comment