5.30 a.m. – 3.6 miles including the Fat mile. 28 mins – call it 8 min pace.
Wicked wind blustering in off the Atlantic. I dropped in two thirty[ish] second efforts in the last half mile, which is slightly uphill (less worries about injuries working on the uphill sections when carrying copious amounts of lard). The idea was to stretch the legs a bit and to open the lungs. Yep, I felt the burn and remembered the agony on proper VO2 max workouts. Mind you, I was probably only running 7.50 pace during this morning’s brief efforts.
I have to say, it wasn’t really much of an effort stepping into the portal the other day. Intrigue got the better of me. There wasn’t any fancy-dancy, swirling-burling, jiggery-pokery, razzamatazz flummery; we just stepped through and there we were, slap bang in the middle of leprechaun land. And what a land.
We sauntered through a meadow fringed with myriad saplings until we arrived at a pool surrounded by huge mountains. Thousands of silver streams slithered down the mountain sides, each with a unique tone, blending to orchestrate a mellifluous composition. I heard harps and violins as the streams merged with the pool. We sat on a grass bank, canopied from the sun’s glare by a weeping willow. The ends of the willow's branches tickled the pool’s surface and about the water’s edge, a fuss of gnats skirred. Birdsong trilled.
‘So,’ he said softly, like how a butterfly might sound if it were able to speak. 'What do you think?'
‘Beautiful,’ I said. ‘Beautiful. It’s paradise.’
‘Ah,’ he said with tears in his eyes. ‘Now you can see why, after all these years, I don’t want to leave this world. For when I leave it, this place will vanish with me.’
I looked at him carefully. His lips quivered. More wrinkles seemed to have crept onto his face and, for sure, he’d lost some of his sprightliness.
‘If you were to do it lad,’ he said, looking through me. ‘You could open this world up to others. Imagine that. Dare you dream of that?’
We sat in silence for a moment. I tried to take everything in. Why me? What’s all this got to do with running? Unfathomable, I thought. Then the strangest creature I’ve ever seen waded out of the water…
RHR 56
Starting to double up the runs, but keeping them short so that I’m not on my feet too long in one go – less chance of getting injured, especially carrying the extra poundage. 4 miles planned for tonight – might be a touch ambitious.
3:45 p.m. – 3.5 miles. Out and back. Bailed out. Turned back after 1.75 miles of gentle climbing. Legs were shot. Even jogging back was hard work. Where was the running guru when I needed him? Reality check. Hope I’ll be okay for the morning…
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