How could it be that I ran 20.2 miles this morning and I feel fine? That I did it at a 9:27 pace, faster than any long run this year? Could it be the margaritas? Could be.
I am of like mind with Bold that Cliff Bloks are it when it comes to on-road refueling! I cut them in half for easier and more precisely measured consumption. Today I was carrying strawberry which is fine but, for the later miles, I was carying margarita flavor with three times the sodium content.
I was not going to let cramps ruin my run which I attribute to my downfall in Miami last year.
Today was a double layer day. The temps were at 50F but the wind made it feel like 42. I never got sweaty in a long sleeve over my short sleeve.
The turn out of runners was the highest yet, this morning: 12! More ladies too! Five went 6 miles or so. Two went 9; and five of us covered the ten mile loop. Once we returned to Park Avenue I did a U-turn and ran the course in reverse, by myself, to get the 20 in.
Over the last three miles I forced myself to think of them as miles 23-26 just to get a sense of how I want to feel in seven weeks. At every hill I attacked them with vigor instead of fear. I plan to do some passing on the hills.
As always, I stretched afterwards. I can remember in prior run ups to big races I would be short on time and skip the stretching. I have been so clear of injury so far that I am sure it has a lot to do with it. That, and seeing Sherlene the massage therapist regularly. Bless her strong hands.
Culture Week. Maybe it’s the season. It seems like it was this time last year too. Mrs. T and I went and saw Lion King in mid-January. Last Wednesday it was King Lear at the Shakespeare Theatre. Last night it was the ballet with three numbers from the genius of George Balanchine.
The ballet won my top mark. It was stunning; and I fell in love with a tall sexy woman in one dance who could hold her body in the most difficult and challenging positions, with the help of her partner, and many times while up on point. It was amazing. I tried to imagine myself trying to do what they do and I am humbled by their athleticism and skill.
I’ll just keep on trucking on my two almost-flat feet. Mrs. T did not allow me to linger around the stage door. I mean …. all those fit hot women …. I just wanted to ask them if they wanted to go for a run this morning.