Sunday Active Recovery Run
On my schedule it was supposed to be an “active recovery” run, but I somehow turned out the best pace I’ve ever done at this distance. Weird. I actually tried to slow down a couple of times, but it wasn’t happening. I think that it actually means that I should be running faster on my regular/long runs. I think I’ve gotten a little comfortable in the “around 9 minute mile.” I actually wanted to go further, to hit the 3.1-3.5 mark, but I was running to meet the wife and kids at the Starbucks. I actually felt the start of a freakout come over me when I realized I was too close, without getting my full run in, but I was able to squash that shit with the thought of an overpriced, weak-ass coffee with 2 shots of espresso, just to make it taste like it does at home.
Tomorrow is my cross training day and I’m not really sure what I’m going to do. I’m thinking about hitting that crazy-ass elliptical for 45 boring-as-cuss minutes and then do a regular chest/back workout. Whatever I do, I’ve got a gut feeling that I’m going to feel like I didn’t do enough. Of course, I took Friday off, as scheduled, felt like a hog and then went out and crushed my long run on Saturday. Well, crushed for me that is.
We’ll see. Part of the excitement for me is that at this moment, this point in my “training,” everything is new and exciting. Every time I beat my last time or go longer than I’ve been before, I get pumped. Every time I sprint up a hill and don’t feel like puking, I’ve beaten every person I’ll see today up that hill, every one of those fuckers didn’t do what I did. And in my head, my mind of early running bliss, I’m getting ready for tomorrow, getting ready to see if I can beat my own time and pass that chick from the bank, with the fantastic ass, up Rule Street. Because I know, I gotta know, she’ll be staring at my back thinking, “how the fuck is HE pulling ahead here?” And I’ll look back and secretly wish I was watching HER ass climb that hill, I mean, nothing’s worth missing that, is it?