Red’s running log 5/21/10

Warm up: 5 minutes, Run: 30 minutes, Cool down: 5 minutes

Today’s run was slow–very, very slow.

I had skipped Wednesday’s run–I’m such a creature of habit that missing a run seems like the end of the world as I always think, what if I stop running? Illogical, I know, but it has already been established that I operate under my own special form of logic which, at times, seems illogical.  So, when I skip a run, I typically have a good reason.  Wednesday’s reason was that I had a crappy Tuesday evening due to the fact I come home from work to find a letter from the soon-to-be ex’s lawyer.  Soon-to-be ex has decided to be an asshole.  Great.  This emotional drama led to a very bad, very fitful night’s sleep so when the alarm went off at 5:00 AM Wednesday morning, I said “screw it”, shut off the alarm and promised myself I would run on Thursday.

I did not run on Thursday because, when I got home from work on Wednesday, there was another letter in the mail.  This letter informed me that I did not get the full-time position I interviewed for a week and a half ago. I swear, I’m going to stop going to work because I just come home to bad stuff in my mail box.  So another fitful night of sleep that even a gin and tonic didn’t help and I was in no mood to get up and run on Thursday–in fact, I stayed in bed until 10:00 AM.  As I did not have to go to work on Thursday, there was nothing bad in my mailbox so I was able to get a halfway decent night’s sleep.

I’m not sure why I set my alarm to 5:00 AM.  I never actually get up at this time, or at least rarely.  Actually, I do know why I set my alarm for 5:00 AM because the night before I always tell myself I’ll get up at 5:00 or 5:15, do some writing and then get to the park before 6:30.  Every morning when the alarm goes off, I apparently forget this plan and tell myself I don’t need to get up now and I hit the snooze button for an hour. I also forget every morning how long it takes me to get ready as in my half asleep state I think it will just take a minute to throw my running stuff on when in reality it takes me at least 30 minutes to get out of the house and inevitably I’m leaving my house at 6:30, not getting to the park at 6:30.

When I left the house this morning (at 6:30) I was reminded (yet again) why I wanted to get to the park before 6:30 AM.  At 6:30 AM it is already hot and humid here.  In reality, I should probably get to the park at 6:00 AM.  Undaunted, I made it to the park.

Perhaps it is psychological, but when I miss a running day and don’t make it up the next day, I feel like I need to start over again, like I’ve lost ground somehow in that three day span.  Add to this the heat and humidity and I decided it was going to be a slow running day as I didn’t want to risk a migraine.

The run itself was fairly uneventful.  I was not harassed by any American geese or insects and there were few people in the park.  After fifteen minutes, my watched beeped, letting me know I was halfway through my run.  I turned around and started back towards the point where I had begun.  I had approximately six minutes left when I saw, about 20 yards ahead of me, an elderly couple walking.

Now, I’m not one of those runners who feel compelled to past everyone in their path.  In fact, I really don’t like passing people because it takes me so damn long to do so, unless they are using a walker and on an oxygen tank and even then I need to pick up my pace. However, at times it is necessary to pass when you’re getting too close because it really is creepy to have someone lumbering behind you for 10 minutes until they pass.

Honestly, I didn’t want to pass this couple.  I mean, I was technically going slightly faster than they were and would eventually catch up to them, but I just didn’t want to do it.

The stretch of pavement we were on split off into two paths. One path veers to the right and leads back to my starting point.  The other path goes straight to a turn around loop which, of course, leads back to the original path.  I watched the couple to see which path they would choose.  They veered to the right; I went straight and ran the loop.  By the time I got back, the couple was no where to be seen and I started down the last stretch towards my starting point.

I only had a few minutes to go–it was hot, sweat dripped into my eyes, and I felt slightly ill–but I didn’t want to stop so close to the end, so I played the “Can I make it to…” game.  The game goes like this: I locate a spot ahead and ask myself “Can I make it to the next tree?” and my other self says “Yes, I can make it to the next tree” and so on.

Self: Can you make it to the next tree?

Other Self: Yeah, I can make it to the next tree.

Self: Can you make it to that pine cone?

Other Self: Yeah, sure. I can make it to the pine cone.

Self: Can you make it to the trash can?

Other Self: Yeah.

Self: Yeah what?

Other Self: Yeah, I can make it to the trash can.

Self: Can you make it to the bench?

Other Self: Do I get to sit on the bench?

Self: Uh, no.

Other Self: Then no, I’m not going to make it to the bench.

Self (consulting watch): Ok, can you at least make it 30 more seconds?

Other Self, sighing: Ok, I can make it 30 more seconds, but that’s it.  And don’t try to trick me by saying “Oh, we’re so close to ‘whatever’ spot, so let’s just run until we get there” because I ain’t doing it–do you understand me?!?  Oh crap–it’s that old couple again–tell me we aren’t going to try to pass them.

Fortunately, my watch beeped before I had a complete psychotic breakdown or before I was close enough to have to pass the elderly couple.