Friday morning and I headed out for what I thought was going to be one of my more typical runs when I decided rather spontaneoulsy to get back on the horse known as speed work. So directed the run on down and over to the lake in the CB to rev it up and air it out some.
I know adding speed work again ( I was doing work -outs of this nature once a week for a time back in January and February before a series of heavy colds sidelined me a few times) is vital to my development, and vital to becoming a "tougher" runner (see my last blog), and also a key component in training for a marathon.
Warmed up then with a little over twenty minute jog, took a deep drink out of the fountain, stertched, took my t-shirt off, and toed the imaginary line I drew on the walkway at the top of the lake. Wanted to run hard, but not too hard; much of the reading I have done over the past few months suggests that speed work or interval training run too hard can be self defeating. Its more beneficial to hold paces that are a bit harder than say a 5K race pace, then to go close to all out each speed segment.
With that in mind I hit start on my stopwatch and was off on the first rep. Felt good whirling around the lake, swooshing along to the tune of the breeze my body in motion was creating... did the first rep in 2:24, I estimated the distance I was running to be about 600+ meters. Knocked out four more using the same pattern of then jogging 1/4 lap, walking 1/4 lap, then going right into the rep of @ 1/2 lap. Sucessively brought the time down, until the last one of around 2:05. Did gun it more and gut that last one out; I like to leave out on a high. Shuffled/ jogged then for another thirty minutes including a short stretch on the beach.
Went 7+ miles then Saturday morning, early a little after 7am as I had to leave out after 9 am to go to work. Legs were tired, pleasantly worked and a bit heavy from yesterday. Felt good then, and today, adding the speedwork back into my retinue of workouts.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Went for a run this morning with my Dad around a five mile loop that somewhat encircles the large development called Brierwood which he and my Mom call home. Ran and talked on and off, as we did the day before; I usually let him more or less dictate the pace as he's now in his mid sixties and also not in as good of shape as I am currently. Though for his age, he's one of the best runners in the area as evidenced by the age group wins he regularly picks up when he competes in local races.
Its another warmer morning, though I do remark about a mile in that it seems a shade cooler and less humid than the day before (my Dad is not convinced). We do catch a little breeze out beyond the country club and large pond as we head out into more of the back country section of the sprawling community... scattered in amongst the old woods and wetlands of southern Brunswick County. Every run is like a snow flake; no two are ever the same. This pearl of wisdom occurred to me a few days ago... where-else, but during a run.
We got done with the loop in a little over forty-five minutes; he eased into a cool down walk up the road past his driveway while i slowed into a trot like jog to talk a few moments more with him. He asked if I was going to continue on with the run, and I answered in the affirmative that I was, so we bid adieu for the time and exchanged a "good run" and I circled back, checked my wrist watch, took off my sweat drenched t-shirt and placed it under the mailbox... and was off again headed back to whence i had come from.
Decided to take the five mile loop again but run it in reverse (runners can be creatures of habit; my Dad, and I when I run this loop that includes a couple different roads will always run it the same way) and also to pick up the pace and lay down some quicker miles and see what the body and mind could handle today.
Have been cycling up mileage wise the past two months or so, but had wisely taken a few easier days this past week that had just ended to allow my legs to recover a little after two fairly intense weeks prior to the last. Hit a bit of headwind on the straight drag of road about a mile in that parallels the road on across several golf holes from my parent's house, and had to dig in a little to maintain the fairly good pace I felt like i was running. I knew once i got up around the turn and into the "back country" part of the run that the wind should be at my back. Of course experience has taught me never to assume wind directions and to never assume any part of a run may or may not be easier than what it may or may not turn out to be.
Held the steady clip I was running and the wind perhaps did come at my back a little, at least it wasn't in my face and the warmth of the mid- morning wasnt too much of a bother... so I pushed it down the tier of straight shots and bends trying to maintain the current pace while alleviating the physical discomforts I was in by focusing on the patterns in the gravely asphalt... the way the road meets the grasses and vegatation on the side I was on... the greenness of trees, shrubbery... the beauty of a stream rolling back out of a small swampy interlude in the trees. Seeing things exactly as they exist in thier own undiluted nature
Thinking then too about how I want to be a tougher runner; the chasmic seperation between voicing the thought and the actions to necessitate the potential outcome. Tougher, stronger, tougher ... step by step by step. Then a vision as I look up ahead and see an old fence shrouded by over growth of the natural woods by a turn in the road... I'm back in Franklin Township running the run i ran some random day fifteen, twenty years ago... and this run is the same as that run... time and space are irrelevant... everything is nothing anyway. I smile inward, again the smile of people slightly mad... but who are quite comfortable in their own sphere of madness... the smile of those who realize they love some God or divine being out there a little more than they'd ever let on to in cocktail party conversations... the smile of those who know what it is like to chase a love to the four corners of the globe knowing they'll never quite catch her and that's exactly the way it supposed to be... after all, muses seldom lie still by the gate.
Then its back onto the main road past the club house and the golfers and the golf carts... I pass a woman out running we say hello and for a split second I wonder about her run and wonder what she may wonder about my run today. One more street one more stretch and I hold firm and strong moving swift counting off the mailboxes in the back of my mind as I near the last bend in the road and the end of the run, with one last thought that "the alleviation of suffering is possible"... and this carries through to the last step of the second five mile loop in a little under thirty-six and a half minutes.
Its another warmer morning, though I do remark about a mile in that it seems a shade cooler and less humid than the day before (my Dad is not convinced). We do catch a little breeze out beyond the country club and large pond as we head out into more of the back country section of the sprawling community... scattered in amongst the old woods and wetlands of southern Brunswick County. Every run is like a snow flake; no two are ever the same. This pearl of wisdom occurred to me a few days ago... where-else, but during a run.
We got done with the loop in a little over forty-five minutes; he eased into a cool down walk up the road past his driveway while i slowed into a trot like jog to talk a few moments more with him. He asked if I was going to continue on with the run, and I answered in the affirmative that I was, so we bid adieu for the time and exchanged a "good run" and I circled back, checked my wrist watch, took off my sweat drenched t-shirt and placed it under the mailbox... and was off again headed back to whence i had come from.
Decided to take the five mile loop again but run it in reverse (runners can be creatures of habit; my Dad, and I when I run this loop that includes a couple different roads will always run it the same way) and also to pick up the pace and lay down some quicker miles and see what the body and mind could handle today.
Have been cycling up mileage wise the past two months or so, but had wisely taken a few easier days this past week that had just ended to allow my legs to recover a little after two fairly intense weeks prior to the last. Hit a bit of headwind on the straight drag of road about a mile in that parallels the road on across several golf holes from my parent's house, and had to dig in a little to maintain the fairly good pace I felt like i was running. I knew once i got up around the turn and into the "back country" part of the run that the wind should be at my back. Of course experience has taught me never to assume wind directions and to never assume any part of a run may or may not be easier than what it may or may not turn out to be.
Held the steady clip I was running and the wind perhaps did come at my back a little, at least it wasn't in my face and the warmth of the mid- morning wasnt too much of a bother... so I pushed it down the tier of straight shots and bends trying to maintain the current pace while alleviating the physical discomforts I was in by focusing on the patterns in the gravely asphalt... the way the road meets the grasses and vegatation on the side I was on... the greenness of trees, shrubbery... the beauty of a stream rolling back out of a small swampy interlude in the trees. Seeing things exactly as they exist in thier own undiluted nature
Thinking then too about how I want to be a tougher runner; the chasmic seperation between voicing the thought and the actions to necessitate the potential outcome. Tougher, stronger, tougher ... step by step by step. Then a vision as I look up ahead and see an old fence shrouded by over growth of the natural woods by a turn in the road... I'm back in Franklin Township running the run i ran some random day fifteen, twenty years ago... and this run is the same as that run... time and space are irrelevant... everything is nothing anyway. I smile inward, again the smile of people slightly mad... but who are quite comfortable in their own sphere of madness... the smile of those who realize they love some God or divine being out there a little more than they'd ever let on to in cocktail party conversations... the smile of those who know what it is like to chase a love to the four corners of the globe knowing they'll never quite catch her and that's exactly the way it supposed to be... after all, muses seldom lie still by the gate.
Then its back onto the main road past the club house and the golfers and the golf carts... I pass a woman out running we say hello and for a split second I wonder about her run and wonder what she may wonder about my run today. One more street one more stretch and I hold firm and strong moving swift counting off the mailboxes in the back of my mind as I near the last bend in the road and the end of the run, with one last thought that "the alleviation of suffering is possible"... and this carries through to the last step of the second five mile loop in a little under thirty-six and a half minutes.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Running Hard
Building the base back up, have gotten out running every day this week. Went for a longer run Wednesday of about 10- 12 miles. Followed that up Thursday with an easier 6 plus mile run, then ran harder on Friday. Took one of my usual loops thru some residential parts of Carolina Beach at an easier, steady pace... then picked up the tempo back on the Greenway, back down past Food Lion on Spencer Farlow Drive.
Kept it kicking pretty hard all the along the bike path that runs adjacent to the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway and under Snow's Cut Bridge. Then across the dead end street by the American Legion and on down the rest of the bike path to where the waterway spills into the Cape Fear River... kept it moving pretty hard by now the breaths coming more rapidly, short and choppy, the legs feeling the burn of the lactic acid building up, the mind signalling to the body to slow down (ignoring the mind here is paramount or simply thinking about somehting else like what i might eat for dessert later). Up thru the windy twisty paths that jut away from the water back into the state park then onto a short stretch of macadam roads in the park (telling myself two more stretches of trail then this madness will cease. Thinking about a JFK quote I once read where he said he thought he could tolerate any level of pain if he knew it was temporary and would end at some point).
Into the thick of the wilderness then just as fast as I had come out of it, woosh past old gnarled deciduous trees and pine brush palm scrubs me suddenly being in awe of the immense natural beauty that I am surrounded by... realizing too that it is going to be alright, in fact everything is alright and will always be alright, we are all saved we are all blessed... then back out of the woods across another street back into the woods... and the pain sears into my lungs/ legs it all suddenly hurts and now it takes intense concentration to not feel any of this and to will the body and the mind another half mile or so along this trail, counting each dip and turn every bend and every trail marker, one after the other soon soon i'll back out the deep dark deathbedded woods and back onto the main access road into the sunlight free free again and this pain will cease and sanity will return.... hang on and I do hang on after almost dry heaving near the end of the trail all the intense whriling motion begins to subside and my breathing slowly returns towards normal the heart and pulse rates which have been redlined begin to creep back down a bit again... I survived yet again.
Then a mile or so easy jog but not too easy back on thru the older residential section of the CB back across the main street and onto the boardwalk where catch site of the mightly vasy wondrous ocean which seemed like a lost vision from times forgotten ten or fifteen minutes ago when I was in the forrest.
Kept it kicking pretty hard all the along the bike path that runs adjacent to the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway and under Snow's Cut Bridge. Then across the dead end street by the American Legion and on down the rest of the bike path to where the waterway spills into the Cape Fear River... kept it moving pretty hard by now the breaths coming more rapidly, short and choppy, the legs feeling the burn of the lactic acid building up, the mind signalling to the body to slow down (ignoring the mind here is paramount or simply thinking about somehting else like what i might eat for dessert later). Up thru the windy twisty paths that jut away from the water back into the state park then onto a short stretch of macadam roads in the park (telling myself two more stretches of trail then this madness will cease. Thinking about a JFK quote I once read where he said he thought he could tolerate any level of pain if he knew it was temporary and would end at some point).
Into the thick of the wilderness then just as fast as I had come out of it, woosh past old gnarled deciduous trees and pine brush palm scrubs me suddenly being in awe of the immense natural beauty that I am surrounded by... realizing too that it is going to be alright, in fact everything is alright and will always be alright, we are all saved we are all blessed... then back out of the woods across another street back into the woods... and the pain sears into my lungs/ legs it all suddenly hurts and now it takes intense concentration to not feel any of this and to will the body and the mind another half mile or so along this trail, counting each dip and turn every bend and every trail marker, one after the other soon soon i'll back out the deep dark deathbedded woods and back onto the main access road into the sunlight free free again and this pain will cease and sanity will return.... hang on and I do hang on after almost dry heaving near the end of the trail all the intense whriling motion begins to subside and my breathing slowly returns towards normal the heart and pulse rates which have been redlined begin to creep back down a bit again... I survived yet again.
Then a mile or so easy jog but not too easy back on thru the older residential section of the CB back across the main street and onto the boardwalk where catch site of the mightly vasy wondrous ocean which seemed like a lost vision from times forgotten ten or fifteen minutes ago when I was in the forrest.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Why I'm out here some days...
Last Friday I crossed the bridge and left off of the island to do a loop around the Sea Breeze neighborhood that abuts the Intercoastal Waterway. Ran behind the Food Lion shopping complex and up the steep grassy hill and onto lake Park Boulevard, and on up up up and over Snow's Cut Bridge. The view while running on the narrow raised cement "sidewalk" is breath taking; off to the left the eye follows the Waterway as it channels back past the North end of Pleasure Island and wraps by the beach houses that jut out onto the far back side of the ribboned land mass, before seemlessly spilling back into the Atlantic Ocean about a mile or so away. To the right the waterway runs back thru the woods and steep sandy banks of the 'cut' on down and into the mouth of the Cape Fear River, as it meanders almost dreamy like slow molasses into the abyss of the Atlantic. Some days I catch the sun sliding down the western horizon a blazing ball of fire raining millions of bits of light onto the glassy sheen of the water; perhaps only broken by a passing fishing boat or old tug barge chugging along.
I got off work Wednesday and head to my friends house in Kure Beach for a run, its been one of those long days we all have from time to time. One of those days that i need to forget about even before i take my slacks and shit off and lace up my beloved running shoes. My release is on the roads, my release is to run as fast and as hard as i can, to make it hurt physically, challenge the mind and the spirit, or numb it with the rythym and cadence of sneakers machine like hitting gravel and macadame. Their's a killer on the road, his brain is squirming like a toad.... So I hit the 3+ mile turn around (5k) in Battle Park by Fort Fisher in 26 and a half minutes ... and then check out. Check out all the way back Lake Park Boulevard and back thru the center of Kure Beach back up the little winding hill where i dry heave coming off the last turn, and smile an insane little inward smile because its exactly what I needed. I take what I need, and spit up the rest. Under 22 mins of it in this case, and i look forward to going back again for more and more and more of it.
I got off work Wednesday and head to my friends house in Kure Beach for a run, its been one of those long days we all have from time to time. One of those days that i need to forget about even before i take my slacks and shit off and lace up my beloved running shoes. My release is on the roads, my release is to run as fast and as hard as i can, to make it hurt physically, challenge the mind and the spirit, or numb it with the rythym and cadence of sneakers machine like hitting gravel and macadame. Their's a killer on the road, his brain is squirming like a toad.... So I hit the 3+ mile turn around (5k) in Battle Park by Fort Fisher in 26 and a half minutes ... and then check out. Check out all the way back Lake Park Boulevard and back thru the center of Kure Beach back up the little winding hill where i dry heave coming off the last turn, and smile an insane little inward smile because its exactly what I needed. I take what I need, and spit up the rest. Under 22 mins of it in this case, and i look forward to going back again for more and more and more of it.
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