Flashback Friday: the Hopeful Time

EVERYTHING LOOKS GREAT today as I ponder the near enough future. I have a solid plan for my upcoming races. My training has been the best it's ever been. My legs feel great. There's a batch of Dogfish Head Punkin Ale and Bell's Third Coast in the fridge just awaiting. My favorite season is blowing in from the northwest. The Browns don't suck yet. I've got a guy building me a banjo. Life is good. What could be better than right now?

How about a track session without a FAIL? No such luck. Here is the statistical rundown:

• Intervals: 10x 800 meters
  
• Goal pace: Sub-3:35 per interval (7:13 per mile)
  
• Fastest Lap (1): 3:16.7 (6:34 per mile)
  
• Slowest Lap (8): 3:39.46 (7:21 per mile) FAIL
• Average pace: 3:29.92 (7:00 per mile)
  
• Total distance: 9.2 miles

[Drunkard's note: Total distance includes one mile warm up, 400-meter recovery laps and one mile cool down.]

That one bad lap pisses me right off! When I crossed the line for 800 meters, my only thought was, Why am a coasting already? I passed another runner with about 50 meters to go and acted like that was the interval. Not having enough gas is one thing, but that was just weak.

A Solemn Flashback
Today's weather is exactly how it was eight years ago, cloudless and crisp. Nothing ominous about it. I was driving a bus. I had a tape in the deck to avoid annoying morning radio. I got off work at 9 a.m.

I went into the campus library, and one of my old coworkers said, "Did you hear we're at war now?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

I went to my class. The professor sent us home to be with our families. My mom works on campus, so I walked to her office. Then I went to the journalism building, where all the superstar student reporters were in a frenzy. There are only so many times you can watch that TV footage.

I felt like I needed to do something. I called the bus service and asked if they needed help. I went back to where my day started and helped keep the buses running as students left classes and were trying to get back to their cars or dorms.

At one point two military jets roared overhead. I wonder now if they were headed toward Pennsylvania, as there was still that one plane left. It's an empty feeling to remember so well.

Back Talk
Wherein like enough serious stuff because you'll get that everywhere today.

Nitmos thinks my half marathon goals need some mental fortitude: "Why not just beat 2 hours to boost your confidence and stop all of this wishy-washy 'couple minutes here, couple minutes there' crap? You did this last year in 1:49! Beat 2 hours. Pocket the confidence. Keep focused on the marathon. Plus, I don't want to read the inevitable 'well, I just missed my half goal by a minute so now I'm not sure about the full marathon goal.' Do it. Best wishes."

Answer: What can I say? Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Unless your broken clock is a Garmin. Then it's just a useless, overpriced ornament with a blank face.

The good news now that you've made it to the bottom of this post is that Happy Hour is upon us. Have a finely brewed weekend and good luck to my fellow racers. (Special shout-out to the biker companion who is running the Buckeye 5-K for the hoodie.) Run well and drink well, teammates. Cheers!