Yesterday's run was supposed to be 15-16 miles in two hours. Unfortunately, it was 95 degrees by the time I started running and I was groggy from my mid-afternoon siesta (the early-afternoon one was more refreshing); I'd been trying to quickly acclimate to the sudden heatwave by not using air conditioning and sleeping in my attic - which resulted in not sleeping at all.
I ended up hitting the first mile under 7, then sputtering and calling it quits at 3 miles. This training is going nowhere fast (quite literally).
What do you think about on long runs?
I get asked that question a lot. The answer is mundane, if rather unexpected: I usually think about the run itself. Or I think about nothing at all. Most people let their minds drift while they run and want to be distracted (thus the popularity of listening to music while exercising), but I don't do much of that until I'm really in trouble and suffering.
During the last long run, when I got to that point, I thought about how my life would be different if there had been one major change at age 20: today I'd be married (no kids; the woman in question couldn't have them), working as an engineer for a while and then probably buying out the wife's mother's business (which is really struggling at the moment), spending my vacations at places having conventions I didn't want to attend... and not running very much. In some ways, it's the life I always wanted and in some ways it sounds awful.
Then I thought about some runners I know who seem to be forever talking about their trainers, coaches, physical therapists, sports physicians and scores of others helping them to run, when I just shrug at each injury and keep going. That's when I started thinking of things like "John Goodman is my trainer." That's whence today's title: when tired and hurting, my brain thinks silly things.
And then I type them.
Going up the country
6 days ago