16.2 Fueled by Leftovers

It was a windy and clear Sunday in Mojave today. I set off on my longest run yet in the early afternoon. A sort of ritual seems to be emerging in preparation for the long runs. The short ones are easy, throw the shoes on, stretch, and you're off. The long ones are more complicated. Maybe because there is a little more excitement, maybe a touch of fear. I carefully tie my laces and tuck them in so that they won't chaff but so the also can get snagged on any of the crap in the desert. The camel back gets filled to the brim. Nipples get a dab of neosporin. Stretching is almost meditative. It is sort of like preparing a deep space probe. The run today wasn't impressive by any standard 16.2 miles in 149 min. That is something like a 9.2 min pace. After I was finished I realized that I could have gone faster, maybe I was a little afraid of not making it.

I seem to be haunted by some sort of pace demon. I feel like I have grown my own personal sound barrier. By and large I find my self at a regular 8.4 min pace. I have been thinking of my short runs as 'pace runs' but for the last three weeks or so I'm not any faster. If the cadence of breath is your bodies rpm, then I find that the peak of my power curve is about the speed of Fred Eaglesmith's song "Georgia Overdrive". The stanza of breath is a quick in-in-Blow. The runner's transmission is their stride. My transmission only seems to have two gears. One step to a breath stanza or two steps for a breath stanza. Now I have tried runs in both gears and a few where I swap back and forth. The only difference is where I'm sore the next day. The kicker is that gears are the same speed. ...At least for now!

Special thanks to my Mom who sent me fifty bucks and moved my sponsorship ticker closer to the goal! (she also sent me some really awesome granola)

Also special thanks to Mrs Sara Reed who not only fed me on Thanksgiving, she sent me home with a big pile of leftovers. Some of which fueled today's run.