Most times I hook up with people over something I'm doing. I'm running a lot just now. I ran 88 miles last month. I haven't run in 23 years Can you believe that life roars into being then wanes and pretty soon your dreams are but faint hopes and the one thing you're truly good at is pretty useless. On Wednesday I ran my first intervals. It was very intense. 8 x 400 meter repeats, with 2 minutes between and trying to maintain the same speed in each one. I actually attained the coveted slight negative split. I'm not certain what that says really, other than I'm going to be up to my neck in trouble come race day on the 25th. I'm entering my first race since sports days at school. 10,000 meter or 10km should put a dent in my mental toughness.
I ran it in a TT (time trail) before beginning this eight week program in 56 minutes and change. It will be interesting to see if I can line up all the ducks neatly on race day. I'm so exciteable I doubt I'll be able to focus well with all the excitement. My main concern is that I'll go out too fast and not leave myself fresh for the second half. I haven't decided whether to go alone or to take Bonnie.
I get my Boo back next week. I can't wait to see her. She says she's looking pretty good with all the activity this summer. Even her older sister has run this summer. It's weird, but true, she's getting addicted to the things running brings. It's like the body was designed to have a cardiovascular load put on in and won't really function well without it. 4 times a week for 40 minutes, not counting warm up and cool down. If you can keep the intensity down to 70% which for me is 123/bpm (beats per minute) or no higher than 80% you'll change your very life force. It's highly addictive. I did nine months of base training at those low intensities. It left me giddy!
I started really really slowly. I took 14 weeks to go from walking a half hour to running a half hour. The plan I followed was pretty simple, but I did not want to get hurt. I knew how good it could feel to be fit, but hadn't run for a long time and the last time was a disaster. I have my old running journal if you ever want to read about pain in the way of shin splints and runners knee. Ugly, ugly and stupid mistakes.
I came pretty close to hurting myself with Wednesday's run, but maybe I can pull out of it. At least my legs have some strength tonight. Manon says I'm getting "chickens" on my calves because they are a bit more lumpy now than before. I've dropped down from a high of 189 to 168 pounds now. Tomorrow calls for cross training lightly for an hour. I may do a short run, or maybe check out the fitness calabrator on the heart rate monitor. I tried it once but it was early in my experience and I goofed it up. I'll have to review the details before I do the walk this time. I have managed to see how fast I can make my heart beat to help in the calibration of some of the training. That's an ugly little experience people that enjoy comfort more than pain should avoid.
You might think I'm referring to clocks and watches, but I'm not. I used to think I had some skill there and I probably did once, but the neglect has rendered it mediocre at best. I haven't worked in many weeks and I've just spent the last two full days working. It's sobering to be this far along in life and only know how to make love to women as the grand sum total of ones middle aged skill set.
I was such a slut in high school. I had three women going at once through grade ten. I lost my virginity in grade nine to a 4'10" national calibre figure skater. Her mum hated me. Her dad wasn't any too respectful either if I remember correctly. Her little sister was a bomb though. Sheelah what a figure. They were both trim and petite, but the sister was very good looking in a sensual way. She was highly provocative and well proportioned.
The worst I remember was her parading around in a translucent top that hung off her shoulders, bra less and just kind of draped over her breasts. The top made it clear that if you happened to be lying on the floor and looking up that shirt, you could see the material suspended off her nipples. She was a distraction.
J was more my speed though. She wasn't quite good enough to make it into the big time skating world, but she sure knew how to practise. Long hours at Vancouver's Hollyburn Club where the rich rub shoulders with the rich were odd.
I've always despised money, but it's damn hard to be happy when you run short. I'm short now and need to get that fixed. I've also got the shop roof all pulled apart and I'm not sure I can put it back together. Stress!!!!!
I'm not much for construction, so I'm in over my head anyway, but I let someone talk me into getting in much deeper than I've ever been before. Scary stuff. One should stick with the things they are good at and let the rest go. Seems like such a simple plan, but I have not been able to heed it's suggestion well. The distract able one... ADHD to the core. Card carrying member of the.... "hey look, string!" club. And besides, I don't know that it would be fun anymore if I charged for it. :D
Watch out gurl... that tea and whisky thang can bite you if it's doing things for you that you can't do for yourself. It's cruel in the end. If you ever need to quit, look me up.
The rambler / Slut / Dark side showing - Ian.
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