I needed some fast-twitch support this morning. My plan was to go 11 miles today. HD called last night and said her running buddies had other plans for this morning, and she was wondering what I had going on. I told her I was planning on doing 11, and she was welcome to join. So we met at the rec center at 4:40 a.m. I had overslept for yesterday's 5 @ 5 a.m., so I was intent on getting the job done this morning.
Just getting to the rec center was painful for me to begin with, though. I've really been trying to hit the weights and core training lately. My #1 goal for 2008 is to become an Ironman. My #2 goal is to actually look like one. I've been staying clear from the leg weights to allow for full recovery from the marathon, but I've been sneaking in a few lunges here and there. I think I sneaked a few too many in last night, and there was no denying it this morning. When I finally did get up and around and out to the car, it wouldn't start. Who knows why...the poor thing has really been rode hard and put up wet during it's time with me, so there's no telling. J.T. got frustrated about it this morning and said "You have GOT to get a new car!" And of course I refused. I told him unless it was going to cost a WHOLE LOT to fix, it was getting fixed and was going to last me at least a few more years. It's a 1999 and a half Pathfinder. It carries my bike, my kids, my kids' friends, a dried up chicken tender or two, lots of dried up french fries, scores of old Nerds, an extra workout outfit, and a picnic blanket incase the occasion arises. And...most importantly, it's paid for. I want a bigger house payment (translate:bigger, new house), not a new car payment. So I will continue to frustrate my husband by driving the POS car. I can hear Adam Sandler singing it now...
Anyways, I made it to the rec by taking J.T.'s truck. SuperFast Tim was there and although he hadn't planned on running, he decided to tag along. Tag along, however, would not be an accurate description. He pulled and pushed HD and I for 11 sub9 minute miles...whew! I think the pace ended up around 8:56 or something, but it sure felt more like 8:36. HD and I never really talked about whether we were going to make it out alive until about 2 miles to go, and at that point we declared that we might make it.
Tomorrow will mark 2 weeks since Rocket City. I should be recovered. I want a rematch. I am declaring war on the marathon. Victory will come in the form of running strong to the end and having fun doing it. No heart rate monitor. No Garmin. No fuel belt. Just me, the course and super duper fun blogger friends. The battleground: Let's rock-n-roll, baby!
I bought a cheap plane ticket today, financed via the super-secret-bike-fund.
1 year ago