Day 60 - Oct. 10, 2012
Today I'm 192.4 pounds of rolling thunder.
Some days it is all about the run.
I had to laugh when I read Lance Armstrong's opus "It's Not About the Bike," because I found that it mostly was about the bike; or biking; or the quest to beat cancer and get back on the bike.
So I'll come clean about yesterday's run. It was all about the run.
Tuesdays are generally short run days, and often times I use them to test what little speed I might possess. I have a 3-mile course that includes a downhill start and an uphill finish with plenty of ups and downs in between.
The nice thing is that all the mileposts are at corners, so it's pretty easy to keep track of your pace. Down the first hill -- mile one. Corner to corner over four hills -- mile two. Down the last hill and up a short rise -- mile three.
Along the way there are four major stop lights. On a good day, you hit them all green and can escape across traffic without breaking pace. On a bad day, the wait can be 30 seconds or more and an interruption in pacing. I have to admit, there are times when it's a welcome interruption.
I've never been a distance runner, so the fact that I get up and run is usually reward enough for me. Every once and awhile, I get it in my system to see how fast I can go.
When I first started running three or four years ago, my 3-mile time was down around 30 minutes. Slow by any standard, but now I find my time drifting upward. Father Time has been no great friend to my running pace. Now a good time is around 37 minutes.
So yesterday I slammed through the first mile at 12 minutes -- dang, that felt faster. I knew the second leg would be hilly, and it usually takes a minute to a minute and a half more. Sure enough, 13 minutes with a 30-second stop for traffic.
I turned the corner heading for home knowing there was no way I'd even flirt with 30 minutes, unless of course I unleashed an unprecedented 5-minute mile.
No such luck. I crossed the line in 37:39 and with the 30 seconds taken off I was at 37:09. Average. But not above average.
The nice thing about racing the clock is that's all you think about. You've got to focus to continue to push yourself, even when you're the world's slowest human.
It's taken a long time to get my wind back, so at this point I'll take any time I can get. Hopefully, I can find some speed and at least flirt with 30 minutes.
Until then, if you see the world's slowest human out for a run, give me a wave.