Smiley Post...This Time, My Face Didn't Stay Pink for 8 Hours

I did it again.

Managed to take a good chunk of time off my long distance run.

Of course, the clouds rolled in and provided respite from the sun, so my "cooler temp" reasoning must be true

It's been an awfully busy month. A 3-day weekend in DC, a 4-day weekend in CA, two days in Austin, then the Socorro Sprint Triathlon. So, the training has suffered (what training?), and I haven't done my long training run route since July 13. That was the day I took a solid 30 minutes off of my usual 3 hour time.

Bones said,"Maybe you've broken through to a new level!"

I said, "I think it's because I actually got out earlier and the temps were cooler..."

Maybe it was a combination of both.

Sunday, I decided to get up early and go for a medium (6-7 mile) run, since I hadn't been training consistently and wanted to healthily ease back into it.

I didn't do either.

Instead, I got up a little later than I should have, got caught up in puttering around the house, hoped for more of the recent cloud cover we'd been having, but really didn't stick to my plan and left after 8 am when the sun was high and the UV was on it's way to contributing to a 10 plus day.

I was rested (from not training) and I felt pretty good.

So, I started at a good pace on my neighborhood run.

Then, I just kept on going.

Clouds rolled in briefly, and the dip in temperature gave me the extra impetus to continue the pace.

I kept rationalizing, "I'll turn around here. Nope, I'll turn around here."

Finally, I just kept on heading out. Already resigned to the massively sore legs I was going to have the next day. My long run course is the only one in which I have a set of past times for comparison, and I was feeling pretty good.

I hit the turn around (it's an out and back route) in 1:09.37

On the same course that I usually do in 3 hours.

Since I haven't been training endurance, I pretty much fell apart on the way back.

The sun came out even stronger than before.

I pretty much cooked.

So, my total run time was 2:41

Still faster than the usual 3 hours.

Or, maybe, I shouldn't consider 3 hours "the usual" any more.

8 Hours Later and My Face is Still Pink...

What a run.

I have no idea how long it is, but it's become my regular weekend route.

3 hours out and back, through the neighborhood, past the university, across Menaul and Candalaria. The turn around is at Montgomery.

I started June 15th, taking the levee paths along the arroyo, seeking extra mileage.

Whew (!)--were my legs sore after the first day, so I decided to keep on doing it.

I went again on the 22nd and 29th of June, and this morning was my fourth time.

I'm consistent at 3 hours--almost right to the minute.

But today, I reached the turn around in an hour and 11 minutes, and sailed back home for a total time of 2:29. That's 30 minutes faster than my regular pace. Over (what used to be) a 3 hour run, that is pretty significant.

I'm not sure what was different today, but it's probably a combination of multiple factors:

The weather was certainly cooler. After many a Sunday morning returning hot, sweaty, and cooked, today was a delight.

I decided to use my new shoes. They're Asics. I've been wearing this brand for a long time and they always work for me. I transfered my orthotics to a brand new, unused pair, and took them on a 2 and one half hour first time break in run. That's how much confidence I have in them--and, of course, they did the job.

Finally, I only had 4 hour of sleep two nights ago, so last night I went to bed early, slept deep, and woke up feeling great.

But the real kicker, at least to me, is my unconstructed, do-whatever-I-feel-like brand of training these days.

Unless the streets are shape-shifting.

Shhhh...

Human Cells are ~ 65-90% Water

Recently, I have been thirsty all the time.

I have a dry-sucking, bitter-tasting, gummy, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, inside cheeks stuck to my outside gums feeling that I can’t seem to get rid of.

I try to drink a lot, but I’m not getting enough. I can tell because no matter how much I think I am waterlogging myself, I keep peeing dark.

Part of this is being ill. My body doesn’t know how to regulate itself when it lies in bed for several days in a row.

Part of this could be the medicine I’m taking.

Part of this just might be a subtle loss of my brain’s ability to accurately determine how much water I need when I’m thirsty.

Now that I’m starting to feel better, we went for a run this morning. Instead of carrying water (like we knew we should) we opted to aim for the university campus and stop for a drink there.

Our mistake was running on Sunday.

The campus was locked up tight.

There wasn't an outdoor fountain to be found.

I didn’t feel too bad because the temperature was dropping and the wind was picking up--nice coolish temperatures which kept me from over heating—but I did start wondering if I would get an irregular heart beat from the stress to my system due to a lack of blood volume and lack of rehydration to my steadily shrinking cells.
Now, that’s a bit of insight into my hypochondriacal side.

Lucky for us, Taco Bell opens early.

At 6 miles, we stopped in and asked for a cup of water.

I have to give props for the attendant’s adherence to fast food service soft drink rules, attention to detail, and customer service. Instead of the little, flimsy plastic throw–away cup filled with tepid tap water that I expected to receive, she gave us a tall, sturdy, heavy-duty paper, filled-to-the-brim-with-ice cup, topped with a snap on lid.

Filled-to-the-brim-with-ice.

Not much water in there. A few sips and I got an ice cream headache. But that was OK, because those few sip used up all the water and there was no more ice water left to make the headache worse.

Plus, I immediately felt that I was going to live.

To top it off, it looked like snow over the Sandias—and the wind felt like snow on the street.
So, who wants ice water with that?

The rest of the run was finished in high form: T ran away from me (can you blame him?), I wondered how someone who’s been sick for as many days as I had been could think a nine mile run was feasible, the temperature kept dropping, and the return was all up hill--
but I knew that I was going to live.

It’s amazing what a little water can do.

I think I’ll try and drink more of it.

An Early Season Training Day

Today is one of those days when everything goes right.

The day dawns with heavy cloud cover from an overnight storm, but within hours the sky begins to clear, and pieces of bright blue New Mexican sky, so much the norm here, begin to show and bring promise of a perfect training day.

Its one of those days that leaves you feeling tired, but refreshed by your own accomplishments.

One of those days where you find yourself breathing in a little bit deeper--just so you can sense that worked-out, expanded lung feeling that comes with taking yourself further than your body is accustomed to.

One of those days where you persevere--
--and then you lay on the couch and eat ice cream


This morning we took a 9 mile run from the door step of our house. It was a somewhat early morning run. We bundled up against the winter-thin air and bright, cool sunlight in tights, thermal tops, gloves, and sun screen. The run was familiar--a route used during the winter for short runs squeezed in after work, hurriedly running out the door with the temperature dropping and the skin freezing on our faces.

Today we started on the same route, but kept on going, cornering smoothly on carless roads, picking the best line from the entire width of the street, ups and downs with brief rests at intersections, breathing hard, pounding a tempo to promote leg turnover.

"Go," I'd tell myself, "go."

"Pick up those legs."

"In a race, you can't go slow. Feel it."

Most of our long runs are done in other locations. We eat a good breakfast and drive. Once we get to where we're going, I can almost feel myself sinking into that long distance, tired legs torpor, even before we begin. When we start, I go slow, gasping for air while my body adjusts to oxygen debt and elevation, taking miles to warm up, barely moving uphill, unable to pick up speed on the downhill.

Today, however, we're running on familiar ground--familiar for running hard and quick--and our pace picks up from long slow distance to tempo, pounding rough, gray pavement underfoot, breathing hard, eating up the distance instead of barely slogging through. What we're doing here is modeling. In this place, we run fast. That's the model. So, today, even though it's a long run, fast it is. In the end, we're running a negative split. We finish happy, out of breath, and tired, flopping into the house for calories and the couch. Our lungs feel used and a little stretched out.

We take the break, gather ourselves, and head out for a long distance swim. It takes a little convincing to ourselves, but we end up at the pool. The water feels good, and it feels great to float prone, rather than standing on our feet. We start easy, feeling good in the water, but end (again) with a negative split. Midway through, after warming up for a good half mile, we feel strong enough to stretch out and pull hard--then hunger appears and our pace picks up for another reason. In the end, we're pulling hard and breathing hard, panting when we stop at the end of the pool. By the time we're done, we're ready for lunch, and more time on the couch.

Ice cream, it is.

As I said, today is one of those days when everything goes just right.