Last night I begged called Massoman and asked if he would run eight-miles with me this morning at 5:15 AM. I even called him back to confirm that we were running even if it was raining. Yes and yes. Thank you.
It was 68 degrees, misty and lightning – we started off at a very nice pace and at about mile 5 Massoman said, I’m going pick up the pace a little. Um, Okay. I though our pace was picked up. He took off and I tried with all my might to keep up – my fear of the approaching lightning might have motivated me as well.
For the last five years I’ve been the epitome of a persistent 10-11 minute per mile racer. And sadly, I’ve learned to be at peace with this. But today, I ran eight miles in 1 hour and 12 minutes.
As I drove to Cindy’s Leg Torture I tried to figure out my pace in my head. I knew it was a good pace and I was thinking maybe 10-minute miles. Since I stink at math I sat in her driveway with my magic iPhone and figured I just ran a 9:02 pace. What is wrong with me? I even did the Gmap pedometer and emailed Massoman to make sure I wasn’t jiving myself.
I changed out of my sweaty clothes and discussed this madness with Cindy. As you’ll see I’m pretty happy and consistent being tortured considering I just ran eight miles. Today was wide/regular/narrow squats at 85 lbs and the usual abs/plate runners/lunges and then arm torture and stretching. It’s a long video today, so feel free to skip out whenever you get bored.
(The arm torture part is called “Cheater Curls” because we go to exhaustion. I know I’m swinging my body a little too much – but I had permission)