Week One in Review

Week One is in the books, and in retrospect it went pretty well. I found a track through Google Earth that is about one mile away, so I will be able to do my tempo runs and speed work without any problems. The track is actually pretty sweet: it is rubber, it is well maintained, and I have yet to see the chalk outlines of dead bodies on the way there.

So I got that going for me, which is nice.

The long run on Sunday was switched a long run on Monday, proving that it is never too early to start shaking things up. I was in Bournemouth for a three-day bachelor party this weekend, and after wakeboarding and flying like crazy around a ropes course, I was feeling a little “fragile” by Sunday afternoon. If you throw in copious amounts of alcohol and a trip to clubs and pubs that literally ended after the sun was coming up, then you could imagine my desire to postpone those ten miles. (Quick aside: My wife will testify that I am obsessed with the idea of staying in bars until daylight, which is pretty humorous because I tend to go to bed before ten PM. Having actually realized my lifelong ambition, I can assert both that it was wonderful and that I deserve a ticker-tape parade of some sorts for actually staying awake and coherent the entire time. I have two words and a coordinating conjunction for you: Vodka and cola.)

In short, the extra day’s recovery didn’t help. Hell, I didn’t feel right until Wednesday. The ten miles? Let’s just say that I did them in a time that was very close to the prescribed time and leave it at that. Oh, and this week’s training is still on schedule so I won’t be missing any runs, either. Nice recovery, methinks. Now if I could only find my liver.

On the technical side, I bought a new sensor for the Nike+ so I am not running watch-commando any longer. Well, I had my watch with me the entire spring, but I just chose not to use it. I highly recommend going without if you aren’t training for anything, but its just a matter of choice. Granted, I am going to come up much more than a hundred miles short at the end of this year’s calculations, but it’s all good. I’m back on the clock now and keeping close count of everything with an intricate system of punch cards and sundials. Granted, I’m not quite as clinical about my preparation as, say, the Russians are in Rocky IV, but I don’t have the best of Soviet technology at my disposal. I like to imagine that Drago and I share a few attributes, however, and that I still gleaned some important training strategies from that montage in which he pummels a red cushion with his communist rage.

This week should be pretty chill. It totals twenty-two miles with a twelve mile run on Sunday, which will involve a lot of circles in Greenwich Park. As I look over the next few weeks, I realize that Greenwich is failing to offer me the miles I need, and that I will have to start directing my attention northwestward, towards the city. London running is always a mixed bag, but if I can cut across London Bridge on a Sunday morning, then I should be able to find it almost entirely vacated, save for the zombies. Today I have five miles, with two miles at 7:38, which are in turn broken up by 800 meter jogs. Tuesday I ran five miles, but I don’t remember the time requirement. It was a modest goal that only left me half dead. But, then again, that could have just been the bachelor party’s revenge.

Last Week’s Miles: 21
Last Week’s Time: Ack, I’m not online right now! Let’s say I did them all in six
minutes.
Overall Impression: In Training Limbo. Not Quite There Mentally Yet. Marathon
Still Too Far