This week as I was slogging it through miles 40-43, I don't recall going that slow since I first started running. It was barely a shuffle jog. But I hoofed out the last of the planned 4 miles.
Part of the training is toughening myself, emotionally and physically, so no matter how crappy I feel [unless there lots of blood or a bone poking through the skin] I finish every single workout I have planned. I dragged myself into the back yard at mile 3.99 with an average pace, slightly under 15 m/mile, I think. Yike. But waiting for me was Sweet Baboo with a nonfat cinnamon dulce latte. I had oatmeal, a shower, and a nonfat cinnamon dulce latte. In that order.
Will I always feel this crappy? I can barely make it up a flight of stairs, I complained.
"While you're base-building, Yep. But you'll start feeling better."
Sweet Baboo is the boss of my training for JJ100. He has devoured the "Lore of Running," and every ultrarunner and trail runner magazine, and is a storehouse of knowledge for ultrarunning theory. He has devised my running schedule up to Javalena:
- Tuesday, I always do 4 hilly "fast" miles
- Wednesday, I do 10 miles.
- Thursday, I do 6 miles, as part of our Thursday night "beer" runs, when we all go hill running and then have a beer after. I do not. I hate beer. Don't try to ameliorate that. Many fine people have tried. I'm not a beer kind of person.
Anyway. 10 miles is tricky on a workday, for me. Baboo has decided that, Wednesday mornings, I should do about 6 of it going downhill early, before work. He then picks me up at the bottom of the hill. This started at 5:30 am, and ended with me showering and going to work. There is a net 500 foot decrease, mostly on a paved bike path, ending in a mall parking lot in midtown. The purpose, he tells me, is to gently build up my quads and increase my foot speed.
I don't care. Everything is eclipsed by the word, "downhill". Booyah. Love the downhill.
Tuesdays, and after work on Wednesday, I do one of my favorite runs:
Baboo is all proper and serious-like when explaining my training to me. Tuesday night, while he was explaining the importance of the dowhill run, the route, and so on, I was wearing running shorts, and my "I love Lucy" apron. And that's it.
It's fun, because it takes him by surprise, and he seems flustered, and sometimes loses his train of thought for a moment.
I picked this outfit just for you, I said.
"I, uh, and, yeah. I like that outfit," he said, momentarily losing his train of thought.
Weekends, I do my long runs. Runs, with an S. I do my longest run on Saturday, and then a slightly shorter run on Sunday. This week it's 20 and 15. So, I signed up for a local half marathon on Sunday. I'm starting it with Courtney, so if I finish before she does, I'll run back out and find her. that will give me an extra couple miles. But the way I'm feeling, she'll probably beat me.
I'm told I'm supposed to get 130 grams of protein a day during all this. That's a lot of damned protein for someone who doesn't eat meat, or soy - where the hell will it all come from? Looks like I'll be eating a lot of eggs, whey protein drinks, and fish. I need to find some organic fish, so that I don't start building up toxic levels of mercury or something.
This sounds like a lot, I know. It sounds like a lot to me, and I'm doing it! Five years ago, I was training for my first triathlon. Now I'm training for my first 100K, maybe more if I can pull it off.
Do you think I have a chance of finishing all 100 miles at Javalena?
"It's possible. It might just be sheer stubborness," said Mr. Serious, thoughtfully.
Stubbornness I've got. In spades. We'll see.
Meanwhile, a very good friend of mine has announced that she has signed up for her first 50K.
Welcome, young apprentice. Here's some inspiration: