I ended a long day of work Wednesday with a concussion headache and a dead phone after dozens of texts and calls. All that was left before me was a short, easy run; 3-4 miles just to see how the legs felt after the marathon just a couple days before. I told Mistress I would call back in no more than 45 minutes, tossed the phone in the car and headed out.
It must have been the cool weather and the pretty lights because at 3 miles I was averaging less than nine minutes a mile with a low RPE and no where near my car. So I turned around. While coming up to an intersection I realized I was exactly five miles into my run and one mile from my car. Now the nice thing about suburban sprawl here is that most major intersections are exactly one straight mile apart. At night with the stoplights, its presents a perfect sight line for distance to the next intersection.
With several feet before the crosswalk and the light in my favor, I opened up the case I had kept my 'all out' in while doing Zone 2 base training and just ran as hard as I could for one mile.
At first it seemed frantic. I focused on the stoplight up ahead of me and just willed myself closer as fast as I could. I looked at the pace on my watch, it read 7:04 per mile. I surged. A few hundred yards further I looked again, my pace was 6:48. Elation. The lights looks close in the cold air but I was not fooled; I had a half mile to go. I stole another look and the pace read 6:39. Unbelievable! I had to look closely to see my heart rate on my pumping arm and it was 180 bpm. Closer. Closer. Closer I came to the lights of my finish line. 6:20 reads my pace. Pumping my arms. Clawing the ground with my forefoot like a cougar grabbing dirt as it chases its prey. The light is right there in front of me. I ran the whole sixth mile as hard as I could after finishing a marathon Sunday and already running five miles this night.
A beep on my watch signals one more mile ran and I slow myself down, peeling into an empty parking lot. My split read 6:47.
A pumped fist, a prayer to God and an impromptu jig follows as I walk to my car gasping for air. Completely satisfied. I have a long way to go and a bumpy road ahead of me, but today was just one more reason to believe in myself.
It must have been the cool weather and the pretty lights because at 3 miles I was averaging less than nine minutes a mile with a low RPE and no where near my car. So I turned around. While coming up to an intersection I realized I was exactly five miles into my run and one mile from my car. Now the nice thing about suburban sprawl here is that most major intersections are exactly one straight mile apart. At night with the stoplights, its presents a perfect sight line for distance to the next intersection.
With several feet before the crosswalk and the light in my favor, I opened up the case I had kept my 'all out' in while doing Zone 2 base training and just ran as hard as I could for one mile.
At first it seemed frantic. I focused on the stoplight up ahead of me and just willed myself closer as fast as I could. I looked at the pace on my watch, it read 7:04 per mile. I surged. A few hundred yards further I looked again, my pace was 6:48. Elation. The lights looks close in the cold air but I was not fooled; I had a half mile to go. I stole another look and the pace read 6:39. Unbelievable! I had to look closely to see my heart rate on my pumping arm and it was 180 bpm. Closer. Closer. Closer I came to the lights of my finish line. 6:20 reads my pace. Pumping my arms. Clawing the ground with my forefoot like a cougar grabbing dirt as it chases its prey. The light is right there in front of me. I ran the whole sixth mile as hard as I could after finishing a marathon Sunday and already running five miles this night.
A beep on my watch signals one more mile ran and I slow myself down, peeling into an empty parking lot. My split read 6:47.
A pumped fist, a prayer to God and an impromptu jig follows as I walk to my car gasping for air. Completely satisfied. I have a long way to go and a bumpy road ahead of me, but today was just one more reason to believe in myself.
8 comments:
I love it! The great thing about running is that you get those occassional moments of personal glory which cause you to pump your fist in the air... not for show or to put on some display for the crowd... just sheer personal satisfaction at making a certain time. Way to go! Inspiring.
Nice Comm
Got your message, Call me, I'll give you directions AND I'll run w/you, ok...... way behind you next time
Wow - you were really rolling! Congratulations.
Woo hoo! Fun to open 'er up.
Awesome. I got an adrenaline rush just reading that.
I believe in you and I believe you are speedy.
Those are some of the best runs in life :)...
every once in a while we just have to let go and drop the hammer.. :)
WOO HOO!! See? It's in there!
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