Getting back to Boston

It's my birthday, I'm an even older geezer...

Spent the night in a hotel in Van Buren after the football game. Bed was a rock, as usual, so didn't get much sleep. Came home, had birthday dinner with the family, took a nap, then ran eight miles. Legs didn't feel too bad, was able to ramp up to 8:45 pace on the run. I think I'll juggle the week's schedule to push the VO2-max run back a day or two, but I may add some miles overall to the plan for the week.

If you're into Jack Daniels stuff, Saturday's half-marathon time pushes my VDOT figure up to 45, the best I've done in running life #3 (my high school VDOT, based on my 2-mile PR, was 57). A 45 also corresponds with a BQ time for me in the marathon, so I'm right on track. Doesn't guarantee I'll get it, but it does tell me my training has put me in position. Just have to keep working for the next three weeks and even into the taper.

Ten miles of fartlek on the TM tonight. With temps in the 40s, it would have been a good night to run outside, instead of inside with the heater on(?) That ended up dehydrating me more than sweating in the summer; found myself taking sips of water purely for cottonmouth.

Anyway, good run once I got loose after 2 miles or so. Surges lasted from 200 to 600 meters; I think I surged seven times. Wound up taking about 93 minutes for the 10 miles. 

Rarity tonight -- an outdoor run in midweek. But the weather was just so perfect -- high 40s, no wind, clear sky -- that I couldn't do another TM run in a heated fitness room. So I drove six miles to run on the old familiar river trail, where at least my chances of getting flattened by an automobile are minimized. Getting flattened by a bicycle, that's another story -- and it easily could have happened a couple of times, especially since I forgot my blinky light. Fortunately, all the cyclists had their headlamps and could see me anyway, and a couple were even courteous enough to yell out a warning, although I heard all of them coming anyway (an advantage of not wearing an iPod).

Wore the Garmin, but it was too dark to see it much anyway (started about 15 minutes before it became completely dark). So I just tried to keep a constant, comfortable pace. Turned out that pace was a smidge under 9:00. I used to think sub-9 was hauling-A, now it's comfortable. Total distance: 8.21 miles, which equals roundtrip from the boat house to the Burns Park boat ramp and back through Alligator Alley. Took 72 minutes.

I guess I'll do the VO2 max tomorrow, but may wait until Thursday. We'll see how I feel. 

Think I did that math right, if it adds up to 9.33. VO2 max run on the TM, 5X600, with enough warmup/cooldown to get me up to 9.33. Pace was good, not too difficult. Probably could/should have run a tiny bit faster; I was at slightly sub-7:00 pace. But still a good tough run.

Perspective is a strange thing. A year ago, I looked at marathon training plans calling for 45 miles a week and thought that was way more than I can handle. Right now, I feel like I'm taking this week kinda easy, and I'll do 60 miles this week. Next week, near 70; the next, over 70. But I know I can handle that, because I've already done it.

Tonight, back on the TM for an 8.5-mile progression run, topping out at GMP for the last 0.75. I stepped up the pace a little more quickly than usual, and the result was an average nicely under 9:00 pace. Almost had a TM mishap of the type I've been fearing; no stumble, but I wasn't quite paying enough attention to my cadence and the belt almost took me off the back of the TM until I realized what was happening and scrambled back to the middle of the belt.

Off tomorrow, then 16 on Saturday, and then I'll go do my civic duty Saturday afternoon and vote early with my family -- including my 18-year-old son casting his first official ballot. So, since I'm not running on the last day of October, I end the month with a new monthly PR of 244 miles.

Routine 16 miler today from Murray Park to downtown and back to the park, but that's not the point. Today's point was about being there for someone.

You guys may have seen the news reports about the beautiful young TV anchorwoman who was beaten to death in her home recently in Little Rock. I never knew the late Anne Pressly, but one of her fellow reporters at Channel 7, the local ABC affiliate, is one of my running buddies. I saw Michelle last Saturday before the half-marathon, while Anne was still clinging to life, and she told me she had a lot of things to run out that morning. She, too, ran a PR in that race. A few hours later, Anne finally succumbed to her injuries.

This morning, I wasn't sure if Michelle would be out there for the Saturday Crackhead run. I hoped she would. I had e-mailed her earlier in the week to express my condolences and had not gotten a reply, which was completely understandable, and it also would have been completely understandable if she decided not to run. So I was glad when she pulled her car into the parking spot next to mine at 5:50 this morning at Murray Park. Then she told me she was also running 16 miles today, and that her normal Saturday running partner was out of town. That's it, I said to myself, I'm running with her. I bet she doesn't feel like being alone right now. Turns out I was right. Not only was she a friend and coworker of Anne's but she's also young and single, and she's still more than a little frightened that the perp is still at large.

So we set out together and ran four miles into downtown Little Rock, which was the first extended conversation we've had. We talked about Anne, and my time working for the same TV station 30 years ago as a statistician on basketball telecasts, and our performances in the half at Conway, and her feelings in the past two weeks since Anne was attacked. And she thanked me for the e-mail. Then, as we got into downtown, three cars pulled alongside us. It was Coach Tom and some of the other Crackheads, who drove down to join Michelle for the final 12 miles of the run. They parked and got out, and I could have gone on ahead, but I decided to stay with the group. And we ran 12 miles together.

When we finished, we walked around a bit to cool down, and Michelle again thanked me for the e-mail and for running with her. I told her that Crackheads look out for each other. My wife texted me to ask about the run, and I told her about running with Michelle, and she asked me to give Michelle her love and a virtual hug. So I did, along with a real hug of my own.

I feel much better about being there for a friend than I do about the run. I know Michelle appreciated it, and I know she and Tom and the other Crackheads would be there for me if I were in need. Crackheads really do look out for each other. I'm not a very social guy, but I value my membership in that band of nutcases. We're connected by a common obsession, but that obsession also connects us at a deeper level. We're linked by shared suffering, I guess, sort of what war veterans who faced death together share; obviously not to the level of those who have faced enemy fire, but those who have battled themselves and the frailty of their bodies and their desire to do anything except continue to put one foot down in front of the other.