I went out to do seven 800 repeats this morning and they were a lot of fun after the first one. That one was 3:54. The others averaged 3:41 and I was feeling groovy ... as in one that floated around the track like a runner. That spent feeling at the end was well worth it.
At work I finished a staff meeting and my cell phone rang. It was Santa!
Sherlene was in town for her daughter's wedding and was taking massage appointments for three weeks while back in Florida (she's currently a resident of one of those Dakota states up there near Canada). When word got out that she was doing massages she booked up faster than the runway seats at the Victoria's Secret show. I missed out and was feeling left out. Then somebody cancelled and I got to go in at 2 today for some hands-on therapy.
I must admit I have become more attuned to the pneumatic thumb pressure of Hank since last May. I found Sherlene did not beat me up like I have come to like; but she did remind me why she is so good. She gives a massage not to rub me all over but to find the tight knots and work them out; to eliminate all the crystalized crap that clings to my muscles.
I hadn't been to Hank since late October and here it was seven weeks later and my body was in pretty decent shape for having peaked in marathon training, run the race and ramped right back up to train for another one. There's something to be said for keeping a steady high level of fitness and training.
I see me slacking off in March after Ft. Lauderdale. My plan is to run Chicago next fall which will give me some down time in the spring to get all fat and lazy.