As I've been increasing my mileage in these early stages -- and to compensate for readjusting my marathon plan according to Mike's advice -- I've been running five days a week with a wimpy, but fast two-miler on Wednesdays.
Last night, though, it seems someone relocated Niagara Falls directly overhead Akron, and I deemed it appropriate to forsake my two-miler for a tumbler of Laphroaig and a trip to Dick's Sporting Goods for a new pair of flip-flops.
I did get in a wet wind-sprint as I fetched the car after leaving the store, but that didn't make it into my running log. But believe you me, it was fast.
Instead, I woke up early this morning to run, which you know is a rare bitch of a thing for me. Just what I don't want to do after a spine-elongating night's sleep: jostle the fuck out of my bones. But there I was.
And of course, the two-miler was not without incident.
I decided to slightly modify my course, turning up a street where I usually turn down and then around a different block than usual. I figured in my head I had it measured pretty well. Then I got to where I thought two miles was and my watch read something ludicrous, like 15:35 or so.
No way was I running a 7:48 mile pace right out of bed.
So I continued running and went around another corner of the block just for good measure and stopped my watch at 16:38. This morning I mapped the run at MapMyRun.com. The result: 2.14 miles.
Yes way was I running a 7:46 mile pace right out of bed.
And the two-mile mark? Exactly where I thought it was.
Tonight is my track night. Four 800-meter intervals. And let me dispense with the fancy numbers and pace range. I'm shooting for less than 3:20 per 800 meters. Period.
Queue the Rocky theme. I'm getting things accomplished!