The best thing about the last forty-eight hours is that a homeless man made me do some speed work.
Here I just might as well say hi, I’m overwhelmed with work and school and running, though I need it, is getting on my nerves. For one thing, I’m still not running as “fast” as I’d like to be. I’m currently cruising along at around a 10:00 pace and while that’s acceptable, I find myself thinking I can go faster. I just don’t.
I also think I could run a little longer than I am, but for some reason I get out there and four miles feels like enough. My long run on the weekend is maybe six or seven. I have no reason to push it. Heck, I can barely fit it in. And (imagine I am talking to running here, not you) for that matter, I’m kind of annoyed that I have to run at all- I kind of want to say forget it and go take a nap. I mean, I want to run but then it’s just there and it’s this thing. Believe me when I say if it weren’t for that pesky (read: necessary) weight control “issue” I’d probably just drop this crap altogether. At which point I’d probably have to go into therapy. Man! This is just not going to work, no matter how I argue.
But I guess the point is I’m running anyway. Yesterday I had to fit it in at lunch, which was welcome because I was having the sort of day in the office where people not only know you’re too busy but warn other people to stay away for the sake of the greater good or something. Or maybe they’re just being nice to the crazy girl.
I decided to take a different route so I wouldn’t get bored (the mind games we play) and headed South from the office instead of North. I had my Garmin with me so I thought I’d just make up the route as I went along. About 1.5 miles into my 4, I crossed under a bridge. I was about 3/4 of the way through when I hear this raspy, yet loud, voice yell “go go go!” And then I peed my pants. Okay, I did not but it was dang near. Instead, I picked up the pace a LOT, looked over my shoulder and saw a scruffy, bearded, homeless man standing at the edge of the bridge waving the standard bottle-in-a-paper-bag arm and squinting in the sun. Also, no one else was around. It is not an exaggeration to say that I ran like hell, all the way back to my office.
That last mile was a solid 8:15. I hate speed work.
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