January 28th

Scheduled Miles: 14 (from yesterday)
Miles Ran: 13.3 (I was only trying for 13)
Total Time: 1:48:28
Current Weight: 173
Current Condition: My right foot hurts

It's 9:16 pm on Monday night and I'm buzzing like no one's business. I did my taxes tonight, what else was I supposed to do? Luckily, I'm right in that zone where I'm all relaxed and can type for once and things seem to just flow. Hopefully, the trend will continue, though the more IPA I drink, the more the motor skills - not to mention the ability to think clearly - will go straight down the crapper. So I'll try to hurry before I finish the next beer.

I was too lazy/tired yesterday to post about the run, so I'll play catch up today. Trust me, it's still fresh enough in my mind to recount accurately, not because it was bad this time, just the opposite. I felt really good, strong and close to were I should be at this stage.

I didn't hold the ideal pace I had in mind before setting out but I stayed under the dreaded eight minute mile, which was an accomplishment in and of itself. After last run, the point of yesterday was to get though a long run without walking, passing out or dying. Happily, I succeeded.

The training regiment I followed last year, which I'm tentatively following again with advanced time and pacing goals, suggested that a person run their long runs at a pace a full minute slower than their desired race pace. Meaning that since I ran a 7:55 minute mile yesterday, I should be running a 6:55 minute mile on race day. Personally, I'm not sold on the whole idea. I'm the kind of guy that needs to experience and know what he's going into before the big day.

For example, in high school I ran indoor track my senior year. I was placed with the distance team, though it was more of a volunteer subjugation as they were hard up for upperclassmen participation. We trained by running around the school grounds after class, much like a cross country team would. The problem with that was I had never ran a mile race before and when it came time for the first indoor meet of the year, I hadn't a clue as to what the fuck I was doing. The race was sixteen laps and I sprinted out to a sizable lead, a rabbit without a pursuer, when the gun went off thinking the rest of my competitors must suck the big one. Unfortunately, I had no sense of pacing at that point and got subsequently passed by every one of those slow-ass losers I had mocked at the beginning of the race.

Needless to say, I need to know how the pace I'm running the marathon feels before I get out on the course. In fact, I want my slow pace on the long runs to be my goal pace for the marathon, but that's a feat that like the horizon always seems be the same far off distance no matter how fast I go. I need to get my distance minutes a mile down but for now the point is to get used to the distance. And thusly, I took my first steps.

One day an eighteen mile run will look like nothing more than a quick jog. Unfortunately, that day has not yet arrived. I'm hoping to get it in the mail next week. Also, it's looking like this could be, dare I say, the first uninterrupted week of training. No business trips, other work related ventures or personal tragedies. I'm thinking this one might just work. Yippie Kie-yea, motherfucker!