Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Day 391 - A Little History About Our Hero.

March 4, 2014                                  251.8 lbs

 And we're off! First workout was an interval run.

10 min warm up
10 min @ Z2 running HR
5x5 min @ Z3 running HR range - not over! - with 1:45 rest/ez jog in between
15' easy jog warm down

Here is the accountability picture.

And here is the metrics.

I am a slow runner and I accept that. Anytime I run an hour or longer, I take my hydration belt with a flask of Skratch Labs and water and a flask of plain water for The Puppy. For some reason the hydration belt kept slipping so I ended up carrying it like a bandolier. The Puppy, as usual trotted along effortlessly, occasionally looking back at me as if to say, "Hey big hairless puppy (me), lets get a move on for crying out load! I have people to jump on and butts to sniff. And lets not forget that pair or socks I'm going to eat later!"

The ankle wound held up okay except the scabs were crunching against themselves the whole way. I felt pretty darn good though. Never gassed. I love that! Love the fact that I can run continuously for an hour.  I just never imagined that I would ever be able to do that. I am reminded of the first and only time I had to run the mile in seventh grade.  .  .

There I was in my tube socks, red shorts and yellow t-shirt. Skinny as a string bean. (Hey kid, if you turn sideways and stick out your tongue, you'd look like a zipper!) Anyways, the coach who couldn't give a damn about any of us "non-athletes" who was always really red faced and smelled like booze and got busted for messing around with one of the seventh grade girls, held up the whistle. Thew-weat! Off I went, at a break neck pace. Well at least for me. I thought, Wow! This isn't so bad! Maybe I could go out for track! Maybe I could join the cross country team! I had visions of galloping off onto the cross country trail in the corner of the soccer field and then being hoisted up by my admiring class mates. A very large trophy in my hands.

It lasted about a minute. By the first turn I was dizzy and walking, ready to throw up. A few years later I was in basic training and though I was in better shape, I still had to absolutely gut out each and every run. As a matter of fact, I ended up in remedial PT because I didn't pass the first PT test. (Though it was for both push ups and running.) I swore every single time I ran in the service that I would never run when I got out. Interestingly, no matter how much I wanted to quit, I never did. Not one time. It's strange that I enjoy running now as much as I do.

Well, tomorrow is a big swim, 3900 yards. Until tomorrow my friends.

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