I do not PR on speedwork like I did last month. I feel more wrung out after long runs than I did last month. My post-run stretches are an exercise in pain tolerance before the eventual stretch happens. I guess long runs have a way of knocking the brashness out of you.
Today was a cut back weekend. Only 16. Next week I peak for the last time (22) before the race 3.25. It was warm out there. Mid 60s. Taxing.
The running group was in full force this morning. I cannot even remember who all was there. And since I gave my blog url to a number of them I better remember them. Shout outs to Dave and Charlene; Chris, Jane, Gary, Jack, Matt, Cathy, Bob and two others who made it 12 today.
The first mile was like the usual start up with lots of gabbing. I did a little of that but at the first mile mark I had a bout of wild hare and took off to the second mile mark at a brisk pace. From there it was back to running conversations with a variety of folks. I had a good sense of community with them, as they have become more habitual Sunday runners, as have I.
At the turn for six miles five of them left us but those who carried on made for the largest pack I can ever remember. Dave and Jane went an extra mile before u-turning. The five remaining stuck together. Today I packed enough vitamin water and cups to quench everybody's thirst at the 6.75 mile mark.
I can tell you (Rachel) that you'll know when it's the right time to down a Margarita Clif Blok. The salty taste just tastes like the only thing you could want.
Cathy, Charlene and Bob stepped out at the 10th mile which left me to run Chris home and add another four onto that. Net total time was a little slower than last time I did 16. It was 2:32, 6.5 minutes slower.
Etcetera. Then this afternoon turned into a clean up day. Clean up to the degree one cleans up for (a) a party, (b) selling the house or (c) having the in-laws come to stay. Actually, it's only Mrs. T's best high school buddy who lives in California coming in for the day (tomorrow). They both were hot babes at their Catholic school back in the day, dating the football co-captains and the like. Mrs. T rarely went to his games either. How'd she get away with that?