Homework Pass
In Tony’s fourth grade class, if over a period of time you hand in all of your assignments and do well in them, then Ms. Jones will give you a homework pass. You can keep it and hand it in in place of an assignment. Kind of like a get out of jail free card.
I figure I must have earned a homework pass or two in training over these last few months, and this morning I cashed one in. My usual BN tempo run was up for today. But once again I got to bed too late, and had to drag myself up. When I got on the road I could not imagine myself up for doing any tempo pace, but that is not unusual; by now I can plan on that feeling dissipating as I warm up. But this morning it didn’t. Nonetheless, when I got to MLK I gave it a whirl, and actually thought I was going around marathon pace when the first quarter mile hash clocks in at 96. At that point I decided it would be homework pass time. My legs just didn’t have it this morning, and I’m officially overtrained.
I think I’m overtrained because I can be. This newfound speed I’ve got is a hell of a lot of fun, and I just want to use it. But now it’s a little like Phaethon driving his daddy Apollo’s chariot – it may be a little more power than I know yet how to handle. I need to take care of what I got, nurture it. And this week seems like the time to start. So I’m going to extend this homework pass and scale it back until the weekend.
From MLK I turned left on Sweetbriar to cut back a planned 13.5 mile loop to 8 miles. This let me run past the Civil War Memorial, with Meade and Hancock and their colleagues sitting mounted on top of its grand columns, silhouetted in the morning light against a dark blue sky. Then it was across Girard and into Mantua via 41st St.
My runs down these streets are infrequent enough these days to become snapshots, and like time lapse photography I can see the changes from one run to the other. The 42nd St. bridge over the railroad tracks by Girard Ave is now completely rebuilt, and looks brand new. Infill housing is popping up in the gaps between rowhouses like wildflowers, and little signs of pride in homeownership – fall flowers blooming, new paint jobs, etc. are apparent. The neighborhood still has a ways to go, but seems on the upturn.
Little signs of life amidst what can appear to be a deathlike expanse. A spring metaphor for this most autumn of mornings. 8 miles in 72:12.
I figure I must have earned a homework pass or two in training over these last few months, and this morning I cashed one in. My usual BN tempo run was up for today. But once again I got to bed too late, and had to drag myself up. When I got on the road I could not imagine myself up for doing any tempo pace, but that is not unusual; by now I can plan on that feeling dissipating as I warm up. But this morning it didn’t. Nonetheless, when I got to MLK I gave it a whirl, and actually thought I was going around marathon pace when the first quarter mile hash clocks in at 96. At that point I decided it would be homework pass time. My legs just didn’t have it this morning, and I’m officially overtrained.
I think I’m overtrained because I can be. This newfound speed I’ve got is a hell of a lot of fun, and I just want to use it. But now it’s a little like Phaethon driving his daddy Apollo’s chariot – it may be a little more power than I know yet how to handle. I need to take care of what I got, nurture it. And this week seems like the time to start. So I’m going to extend this homework pass and scale it back until the weekend.
From MLK I turned left on Sweetbriar to cut back a planned 13.5 mile loop to 8 miles. This let me run past the Civil War Memorial, with Meade and Hancock and their colleagues sitting mounted on top of its grand columns, silhouetted in the morning light against a dark blue sky. Then it was across Girard and into Mantua via 41st St.
My runs down these streets are infrequent enough these days to become snapshots, and like time lapse photography I can see the changes from one run to the other. The 42nd St. bridge over the railroad tracks by Girard Ave is now completely rebuilt, and looks brand new. Infill housing is popping up in the gaps between rowhouses like wildflowers, and little signs of pride in homeownership – fall flowers blooming, new paint jobs, etc. are apparent. The neighborhood still has a ways to go, but seems on the upturn.
Little signs of life amidst what can appear to be a deathlike expanse. A spring metaphor for this most autumn of mornings. 8 miles in 72:12.
posted by seebo | 9:49 AM
1 Comments:
Looks like something that came with that newfound speed is the experience to know when things aren't right, and the wisdom to accept and pay attention to that.
New guru Pfitz refers to "overtraining" as "underrecovery," which I think is a great way to look at it.
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