It’s been 8 months since I signed up for this blog space. At the time I felt a need to jot down my thoughts on running and my thoughts during running, hence the blog name. But almost immediately after I signed up for the space, named my blog, and selected a vibrantly verdant template, all thoughts ran away. I had nothing to say.
Between then and now, my running partner, Ivy, and i went through a rather lacking season of marathon training. We were both under-trained for the event. I crashed the local marathon, running the first 11 miles of it then headed for the car which I had strategically parked at 3 a.m. that morning. Ivy hit the wall or pulled something by mile 20, and ran her slowest marathon.
Since the beginning of 2008, she has run two races, I, just one. The 10-K Pineapple Run back in May proved to be a fruitful race. We ran a rather satisfying time, I made fried rice and dessert with my pineapple, and my eagerness for training was renewed.
Despite the reinvigorated gusto for pavement pounding, life intervened, and we just couldn’t seem to get our routine down. It’s been months since we’ve done any interval runs at the track or tempo runs. I feel embarrassed each time I log my runs in the training log that it is another “easy” run of two times around the park. Our long runs on Saturdays are no more than the 4.6 mile Kahala loop.
As an eternal optimist, I learn from past failures and anticipate a stronger, faster training season.
A self-diagnosis of our failed season revealed several issues:
1) our faltering dedication to training on our own when the other is out of town, and in the past two years of training together, one of us always go on these long trips right before the marathon,
2) bad timing for vacations,
3) our faltering dedication to training when it rains,
4) our faltering dedication to training when one of us simply doesn’t feel like running that morning.
A typical scenario of #3 & #4, which happens much more frequently than #1 and #2, goes something like this:
Background– 5:45 a.m. is the normal time for Ivy to call Winnie to say that she’s leaving her apartment to pick her up.
On a #3 or #4 faltering dedication day, Ivy calls at 5:15 a.m.
“Hello, Ivy,” answers W in a husky voice.
“Is it raining on your side?” asks I, clearly still in a supine position.
“Hmmm, the ground is wet, but it’s not raining at the moment,” says W without opening her eyes.
“Oh,” I replies in a disappointed tone, “are there clouds?” I asks hopefully.
“well, yes, there are always clouds, but yea, they look pretty dark!” W says smilingly still with eyes closed.
“okay, tomorrow then,” I says with relief.
“tomorrow then,” W hangs up before she finishes the sentence.
We need to join a running group.