Low Speed Chase

The metaphor came to me about halfway through my run this morning. It fit the mood.

I planned to do 15 today. Got to bed a little later than I wanted and set the alarm a little earlier than usual. The alarm went off and I lay there. I could not get up and bring myself to do this workout.

I ended up compromising. I slept an hour more and got up to run the Art Museum loop. 6.5 miles instead. I can shove off the 15 miler to tomorrow, and Thursday’s track workout to Friday. This is the kids’ last day of school, so I’m not pressed for time tomorrow as I was today. Friday I’m off. So that will work.

And when I got out the door I fell into my usual slow start and never got out of it. I didn’t try. On crossing the South Street Bridge I could not picture myself doing 15 this morning. I wondered if my body knew that and forced my mind to go with it, or if I was just lazy. Or whether there was a difference. It mostly lies in perspective, I decided. If I want to be hard on myself I would call myself lazy.

But what concerned me more were my thoughts on the relentlessness of these workouts, their tyrannical nature. It’s not the 15 that I’m worried about but the specter of facing months where I get up and have to psych myself to do these workouts morning after morning. That’s where this seems so damn hard.

But that is the wrong kind of thinking too. Just a workout at a time. I got one in this morning. As Reba reminded me, beats the hell out of a DNR.

Lots of people out on the bike path today. They all looked faster. Ran by Bart, who was running the other way down the bike path. He is faster. I stole a few moments to ogle his stride – light and compact with his feet close together, almost as if he were on a tightrope. Then a few minutes later I saw a shadow as he was there again, this time overtaking me from behind. I continued to lumber on.

Gonna be a hot one today. Glad I got a run in. Art Museum loop, 6.5 miles in 56:21.