Why waste time?
Jimmy (whom I hate) popped it on me this week (finally) that he planned to race Indy. Race, as in going for a sub-1:30 time. This had been denied over and over, and foolishly I bought it, though every fiber of my being knew it to be a lie. For that, I have only myself to blame. I've known him for over 20 years, I have no excuse.
It wouldn't be a problem ordinarily. What is not ordinary this year is my poor running fitness. I had made the choice to pare down my running to try to get healthy before resuming training. So much for that.
Of the options for this Tuesday's workout provided by the nameless one I hate, the 5-mile at 6:52 appealed to me most. It had distance at pace, and the way I saw it, answered two questions at once. Could I run far, and could I run that pace? Might as well find out.
It went surprisingly well. We struggled to hold the pace down, which is a good sign. I feel confident I could have doubled the distance tonight and kept the pace overall. Beyond that, I can't say, but does it matter? I figure if we get to 10 miles before I collapse, at least I will have helped him that far. Beyond that, well, he's on his own.
Scott stayed with us for 3. Jimmy tried to work his magic and get him to go farther with us, but he played that card too early. Just after the 2-mile mark he started talking about going on after 3. It was way to early for Scott to wrap his mind around it, and the opportunity was blown. An experienced runner is already lying to himself, saying he will stop, knowing he will go on. It's a silly mental game we all play. If you run enough, you know what I'm talking about. Scott isn't there yet, but soon will be. Jimmy misjudged.
Next time he waited a bit longer to drop the line - on me. As we were in the final 1/10th straight for the 5th (and agreed upon final mile) he started saying, "okay, when we hit the end of the mile, let's go on for another half."
"What? Are you playing me? Look, if you want to run 6, just say so!" I said sharply. Toy with me, will you?! Truth is, I was already considering 6. I didn't let him know that though. Remember, I hate him.
We climbed Industrial one final time. I was pretty concerned about it, because we were over 8 miles of running by this point, the place where my back can really start to hurt. Pressing up the hill would definitely aggravate it. Thankfully it was okay, if a little slow. We hit the half and stopped. I was soooo close to going on, but didn't. Better safe than sorry.
Galloway had lost us in the second mile, but manned up and went 4. Aaron did 6 miles at a good average pace, even if his splits were all over the place. I must admit, listening to him talk about his run afterwards reminded me that the two of us interpret our results very differently. More than one way to do things, I suppose.
I know Danny G. and Chris both ran tonight, and Chris in particular ran very well from what I could tell. I didn't get splits from either, as we were still running when they finished.
We're coming down to the wire now, with less than 3 weeks until the race. Guess I'd better get my miles up...
| Athlete | Mile 1 | Mile 2 | Mile 3 | Mile 4 | Mile 5 | Mile 6 | Total | Avg |
| Aaron R. | 6:13:00 | 6:27:00 | 6:31:00 | 6:22:00 | 6:17:00 | 6:40:00 | 38:30:00 | 6:25:00 |
| Bill | 6:51:00 | 6:50:00 | 6:53:00 | 6:44:00 | 6:46:00 | 34:04:00 | 6:48:48 | |
| Jimmy | 6:52:00 | 6:49:00 | 6:53:00 | 6:44:00 | 6:46:00 | 34:04:00 | 6:48:48 | |
| Scott | 6:52:00 | 6:49:00 | 6:53:00 | 20:34:00 | 6:51:20 | |||
| Tim G. | 6:52:00 | 6:53:00 | 7:10:00 | 6:53:00 | 27:48:00 | 6:57:00 |
Jimmy (whom I hate) popped it on me this week (finally) that he planned to race Indy. Race, as in going for a sub-1:30 time. This had been denied over and over, and foolishly I bought it, though every fiber of my being knew it to be a lie. For that, I have only myself to blame. I've known him for over 20 years, I have no excuse.
It wouldn't be a problem ordinarily. What is not ordinary this year is my poor running fitness. I had made the choice to pare down my running to try to get healthy before resuming training. So much for that.
Of the options for this Tuesday's workout provided by the nameless one I hate, the 5-mile at 6:52 appealed to me most. It had distance at pace, and the way I saw it, answered two questions at once. Could I run far, and could I run that pace? Might as well find out.
It went surprisingly well. We struggled to hold the pace down, which is a good sign. I feel confident I could have doubled the distance tonight and kept the pace overall. Beyond that, I can't say, but does it matter? I figure if we get to 10 miles before I collapse, at least I will have helped him that far. Beyond that, well, he's on his own.
Scott stayed with us for 3. Jimmy tried to work his magic and get him to go farther with us, but he played that card too early. Just after the 2-mile mark he started talking about going on after 3. It was way to early for Scott to wrap his mind around it, and the opportunity was blown. An experienced runner is already lying to himself, saying he will stop, knowing he will go on. It's a silly mental game we all play. If you run enough, you know what I'm talking about. Scott isn't there yet, but soon will be. Jimmy misjudged.
Next time he waited a bit longer to drop the line - on me. As we were in the final 1/10th straight for the 5th (and agreed upon final mile) he started saying, "okay, when we hit the end of the mile, let's go on for another half."
"What? Are you playing me? Look, if you want to run 6, just say so!" I said sharply. Toy with me, will you?! Truth is, I was already considering 6. I didn't let him know that though. Remember, I hate him.
We climbed Industrial one final time. I was pretty concerned about it, because we were over 8 miles of running by this point, the place where my back can really start to hurt. Pressing up the hill would definitely aggravate it. Thankfully it was okay, if a little slow. We hit the half and stopped. I was soooo close to going on, but didn't. Better safe than sorry.
Galloway had lost us in the second mile, but manned up and went 4. Aaron did 6 miles at a good average pace, even if his splits were all over the place. I must admit, listening to him talk about his run afterwards reminded me that the two of us interpret our results very differently. More than one way to do things, I suppose.
I know Danny G. and Chris both ran tonight, and Chris in particular ran very well from what I could tell. I didn't get splits from either, as we were still running when they finished.
We're coming down to the wire now, with less than 3 weeks until the race. Guess I'd better get my miles up...
Special Interview
I've been holding this piece of special interest news for a
while, and with the advent of true riding season I felt it was time to get it
out there.
Over the last few weeks, stalwart riders have been making
the effort to get out there and ply their fortunes on the roads of Amish
country. While it may be true the numbers were low, the quality of the
attending riders was nonetheless high. The training affects were immediately
noticed. Most notably, athletic fortunes changed as Allen B’s calves suddenly
acquired sentience.
Your author wasted no time garnering an interview. The
following is a transcript of the taped conversation.
IronBill(IB): So… as the newest member of this riding
community, how does it feel to get out there and hit the roads this spring?
Allen’s Calves(AC): I tell ya, it’s just great. Getting
outside I mean… we mean… well, you know what I/we mean. What you may not know
is our training actually started indoors.
IB: Oh?
AC: Yes. Allen spent at least 30 minutes a day flexing in
front of a mirror, admiring himself. In fact, that’s where we awoke. Our first
memory was of him turned away from the mirror, staring over his shoulder,
admiring us. It was creepy. We’re not sure how we feel about him right now, so
we try to keep turned away from him when possible.
IB: I suppose that would be a tough situation. Has it
impacted your performance?
AC: Not at all. We’re pros, you know, and we have a job to
do. We get the call to stomp on it, we stomp. And that call comes more and more
often nowadays.
IB: It seems Allen isn’t the only one who’s noticed you
lately.
AC: You’re right. Brett S. has been sending us love letters
since we shared a ride. They say things like, “I can’t believe how big you’ve
grown”, or “I can’t take my eyes off of you.” As impossible as it sounds, that was even
creepier than Allen. We had to take out a restraining order, so it may be a
while before Brett S. rides with us again.
IB: Ugh.
AC: Tell me ‘bout it. It’s like that everywhere we go,
though not often that bad.
Miller’s Abs(MA): Hah! You think YOU have it bad? Every
chick in town is in love with us!
AC: We would LOVE it if every chick in town loved us. Heck, we would be happy if only one chick in Orleans loved us. But noOOOOooooo. Noooo,
she doesn’t even know we exist. It was a crushing realization. We won’t go into
it, but suffice to say she’s into younger calves. Or at least taller, darker
ones.
Denny’s Eyes(DE): Did someone say “chicks”?!
AC: Oh, for the love of compression socks, can’t you guys
control yourselves?
DE: Oh, excuse US! Is it wrong to admire fitness? Is it
wrong to admire beauty? Anyway, that photo was misinterpreted.
IB: Uh-huh…
AC: Anyway, Huck’s used to be one of our favorite stops. No
more. Once we learned our fan base was much smaller than we’d thought, well,
all thoughts of a cool, refreshing drink melted away. We’d rather ride on by.
Maybe the Amish chicks will dig us.
DE: Did someone say “chicks”?!
<end tape>
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