After weeks of weekend ineptitude, I finally got my sorry rump a-running this past weekend. Twice, even. Hip-hip-hooray! I failed to suck at maintaining my mileage. I was even surprisingly fast.
My pace has been somewhere around 8:45-9:15 minutes per mile in the past few weeks. On Saturday afternoon, I set out for a brisk four-miler, attempting to really push it faster. My upper thighs were barking by the third mile. Apparently, they had lost their holiday cheer. I finished with a decent 8:45 pace, but far from the land speed record I was sure I was breaking.
Sunday's eight-miler was a whole other story. This was my first long run in a month. I figured I'd start slow and finish as fast as I could. I expected somewhere around 9:30-10 minutes per mile. I hit my first mile at 9:03 and felt good. Then I kept getting faster.
My thighs were barking again by the fourth mile, but my pace was not suffering. During the seventh mile, I even slowed down to talk to The Enthusiast, who was out for her first five-miler, but I still managed an 8:23 mile (the same speed as my sixth mile). I crushed the eighth mile at 7:51 for an overall time of 1:06:42 (8:20 per mile).
Nothing like a strong long run to get me motivated again. Now let's see if I can keep it up.