Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Monday Morning After

While cleaning up my hard drive today I found this draft of a blog post about my training for the Vermont 100 last summer and thought I might as well post it here. I miss the sensation in my legs that I described that only comes from the trial of miles. I lost it sometime over this past last year of lethargy. Maybe it's time to find it again.
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Monday Morning After

It’s the morning after the weekend before and time for yet another workout. It was a productive weekend, the biggest in a while, 31 miles in two days and my legs ache from the effort. I was in bed by 9:30 last night but I still reacted to the 4 am alarm with a groan. This schedule already seems relentless and I’m only just beginning to ramp up my mileage in preparation for my next race.

Sleep deprived and sore, are not a recipe for a quality workout and I’m not looking forward to it. The first few steps always hurt and I voiced an involuntary grunt. I fall into an asymmetrical shuffle, limping from side to side. The group starts to slowly pull away from me and I think to myself that this is going to be a long and lonely 5 miles.

Soon however, I find my rhythm and things start to even out. It’s not exactly comfortable but more like a sensation that my legs are doing what they were designed to do, fulfilling their purpose. By the end of that first mile the pain subtly receded. Still there, definitely still there, the dull ache lurks in the dark recesses of my consciousness occasionally jabbing a sharp reminder of the battering I gave my body over the past few days. Revenge perhaps.

I soon caught and then passed the group up front. I looked over my shoulder hoping someone would peel off and give chase. This pace feels good for the moment but I know it will be difficult to maintain without a little friendly competiveness, maybe even a few nuggets of breathless conversation to take my mind off the effort.

The headlamps and flashlights slowly recede behind me, bouncing in the dark, faces occasionally illuminated by the glow of a street lamp. No one took the bait. It’s understandable, it is the Monday morning after and I know that, to a person, they all put in a hard weekend too.

Looks like it still might be a lonely 5 miles, but hopefully not quite so long.