It will be hard for a while more, the 3.5 mile run home from work. You know the course. Mile 1 tends to be zippy as I burn off stress and frustration between my office and the foot of the bridge. Mile 2 can be fast or slow depending on how much the ascent up the 59th Street Bridge takes out of me. And Mile 3 is typically an average pace, with me kicking things into another gear for the final (uphill) half-mile home. By the time I arrive at my door, if I’ve pushed the pace, I’ve had a great workout. I’ve only cracked the 30-minutes mark a few times, primarily due to the inevitable traffic lights that slow me down me.
Yesterday was an especially stressful day; all week I’ve had this persistent bad feeling that the other shoe is about to drop. So I knew my first mile would be fast, but I had no idea this jiggity jig would end up a pace run. 3.49 miles in 30:29? Yow, no wonder it hurt, I typed to my Tweople. I’m not trained to do that comfortably yet! On the upside, all that effort I expended blew that anxiety cloud right out of the sky. I was home by 7:30 PM, thinking, I get to do this again in a mere 10 hours. Suh-wee!
The plan ordered up 4 miles from me today, and lest it turn into a snarling animal I fed it–early. Up at 5 AM (I do love the relative tranquility of my Sunnyside Loop at this time of day), I was on the road by 5:20 for a double lap of the ‘hood. With the memories of last night’s hurt (the gasping, the self-persuading) fresh in my mind, I had no problem taking it easy. Can you say recovery run? It was a pleasure to be breathing fully but not panting. The first two miles were each exactly 10:09’s; I wrapped up the run averaging flat 10’s. Aw’ite. It’s been a while since “flat 10’s” was perfectly alright with me; but honestly right now it’s all about getting used to the daily practice again.