Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Fifteen Percent Concentrated Power of Will

Tons of things to report since last Thursday. And by tons, I mean very few. The weekend wasn't eventful for me, but Goliath? He had the time of his life with his girlfriend Sarai. Sarai is a boxer mix like Goliath, but she's missing the breed that's wired for continual energy. Goliath never gave the poor pup a break, she went from this:

To this:

...after four hours of non-stop playing.

I swear the guy never wears out, and only sleeps out of boredom. So the idea that I need to run him daily is both negated, and supported. He needs to work out, but it certainly doesn't tire him out like it should. While he's already marathon ready, and built for speed I am not.

We set out for our daily miles today, just like any other day except one thing. I really didn't want to. I've been in this wicked funk: eating poopie foods, and not running. Essentially being sedentary. Optimistically, I thought if it got warm I'd want to run but it didn't and I keep skipping training. I even put on my marathon socks to get me motivated.

As usual, however, after the first half mile I renewed my love and pushed the work out.

The trail was solid, solid ice and running on it was more like jumping up and forward over and over as to not slip. If I had used my normal form it would have been akin to running up the down escalator. Goliath was splendid on the ice, and did not pull me. I have this inherit fear of falling terribly, alone and breaking a leg or something. Maybe Goliath shares that fear, because it's as if he inherently knows not to pull on ice.

At our split we took a two minute breather, and by breather I mean: I caught my breath and Goliath sniffed and explored. It was the type of cold today that makes your teeth hurt, and nose ache. My eyes stung, and my face was so dry. This did not make me very happy.

The back end of my run was incredible, I averaged an 8:30 minute/mile and spent most it on grass. Pushing myself felt great, but afterwards I couldn't help be be annoyed with myself. Over the span of a year I have progressed in running a lot, so why am I putting up roadblocks? Why do I need to continue to kick myself to get out there and run? I know full well that the hardest part is getting up and doing it, but I hate starting my runs with resentment-it makes them less enjoyable, and by the time I'm halfway finished I wish I had enjoyed the first half more. My runs are too short and far between these days to be angry at the miles.

I know it's cold, and I know I'm prone to injury but no more excuses, and avoiding the pavement.

Today's Mileage: 5.1
Time: 45:24

1 comment:

Michael said...

quite frankly... your a bag of crazy. just wait for summer you crazy head. Its freaking freezing out there mr bigglesworth.