After tearing through John Parker Jr.'s Quenton Cassidy trilogy at breakneck speed, I found it impossible to hold back from an afternoon run. I'd been pretty much sedentary since running 100 miles two weekends ago, but but Parker's narrative of the competitive miler (and eventually marathoner) and his lifestyle are enough to make anyone want to immediately lace up and begin clicking off the miles en route to greatness. The original novel Once a Runner and it's sequel and prequel all have elements that many of us can relate to on some level — the innocence of youth and the hope of great things yet to come, and then longing to relive those youthful days later in life.
Halloween afternoon. Overcast but mid-60s, this is possibly the warmest day Ithaca will see for many months. I arrive home from work, quickly swapping scrubs for shorts and a singlet. It is all I can do to avoid suicidally attempting to rip off a series of 60-second 400s on the IHS track, pretty much guaranteeing a complete rupture of my still-achy tibialis anterior tendon. I restrain
myself from an abrupt end to my running career and instead opt for an easy jog around Stewart Park's lakefront and woodchip path.
I feel like I can easily run an 8:30 pace all day long, but that anything faster would be impossible. Ten days removed from the flat-ish and runnable Wawayanda Wonderful 100 (race report coming soon) and my legs still seem to weigh 100 kilos. Apiece. That same left ankle tendon pain manifested itself near the end of Twisted Branch and cleared up on its own after a week or two. I'm thinking it'll do the same thing this time as long as I'm not stupid about it. A decent run at the MFAMTL 8-Hour on November 17 still looks like a possibility.
I jog along the bike path and then twice around the squishy woodchip loop in the woods as rain clouds begin to move in from across Cayuga Lake, making it hope just as the sky is ready to open up.
One more thing... I also discovered Nikola Tesla's grave in my next door neighbor's front yard!
No comments:
Post a Comment