I’ve made up two jokes in my life. One is so weird you probably wouldn’t get it. The other one goes like this:
Q: “What do you call used coffee grounds?”
A: “Has-beans.”
It certainly is not an un-apt description of what I felt like after yesterday’s Peabody’s 10K. And no, I’m not talking about having had my requisite cup of coffee before I left home, unlike another unfortunate blogger for SBAA (maybe that’s why you couldn’t catch me, Nichol!). Yes, I had my Peet’s, and my Gu Brew, and my super-special asthma warmup that involves running a half mile in 3:20 ten minutes before the gun. I also had a good night’s sleep, and was wearing my brand spankin’ new CW-X compression shorts…
But none of that kept me from feeling like “has-beans” yesterday. I had planned to go out at a 7 minute pace, and pick it up after the turnaround if I felt good. ”Dream on!” my legs shouted to me as we hit the half mile mark in 3:35. They harrumphed at the mile, which we hit in 7:12, and stopped talking to me altogether by mile two (7:15). I thought I had sweet-talked them into behaving by mile three (7:04), but my 7:31 at mile four showed just who was in charge here. Clearly, they were going to run their own race, my delusions of grandeur notwithstanding. This, after I dropped $70 on the fancy pants, just for them! I don’t get no respect.
I suppose they could turn around and demand just what the heck I was thinking after making them work three consecutive 70-mile weeks, and then asking them to pile on some overtime to boot. I’ll probably be talking to their union rep soon. Or the labor board, for what I did to them miles five (7:07) and six (7:06) trying to catch Liz Groom (not). Or the police, for the lashing I gave them trying to outkick Ali during the last .2 miles (1:21, a 6:40 pace).
I stole these pics from Brian’s YouTube video in HIS blog. Apparently, text alone isn’t cool enough anymore. Hey, I’m tryin‘.
My finishing time, 44:39, was on a par with the 10K times I run when I’m using a race as a tempo. Which, as it turned out, was exactly what I was doing. My legs knew it. My coaches knew it. (“Mike and I looked at you and said, ‘She’s not racing,’” said Rusty post-mortem.) Even my husband Jeff knew it: ”What did you expect, after getting up at 0-dark-thirty every morning, and putting in those kinda miles?”
On the upside, I had a smooth, steady 10-mile cooldown for a total of 20 for the morning. I even threw in a 7:30 mile at mile 19, just because I felt like it. (I also knew the training group had run 8 tempo miles, and I felt a little guilty). I really like the compression shorts; they feel snug and supportive, and I swear my legs felt less fatigued than usual.
Three more weeks, then the taper. Then: jumping beans!
Wait! You just made up another joke! A “ten mile cooldown”. Oh no, you are serious. Not joking. You are so ready for Boston.
The reason I put pictures in my blog is so I won’t have to write so much…you know….what with each picture worth the give or take 1000 words.
And if you notice, there are very few pictures of me in my blog. I appeal to people’s vanity so they have to come to my blog to check themselves out and then also I am in a better position to dispense the insults, rather than to receive them.
Great job on Saturday and thanks for the 6-month blog update. See you in the morn…
YAY! Maggie is back to blogging!!!!
And you looked darn good in Dutter’s documentary!
Uhhh, no joke, Nichol. Isn’t that sick? Not ready for Boston yet, but I still have three weeks to go before the taper. Lots of good things can happen in three weeks! (Don’t say it, Brian.)
Brian, I confess I sneaked a look at myself in your track workout video, and was expecting to see something like a ham on legs running around the track, so it was nice to see I looked like an average person. Old scripts die hard.
Tamara, I SWEAR I will try to write weekly ’til Beantown!