Heat Wave
The attached passage was taken from James Tabor’s, The Runner, and has to be one of my favourite quotes. The imagery that Tabor provides speaks volumes, but I also find myself envious of the runner and the experience that he had created for himself. Yesterday I fashioned my own experience, my own carnival of pain.
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"Out of the silver heat mirage he ran. The sky burned, and under him the paving was a black mirror reflecting sun-fire. Sweat sprayed his skin with each foot strike so that he ran in a hot mist of his own creation. With each slap on the softened asphalt, his soles absorbed heat that rose through his arches and ankles and the stems of his shins. It was a carnival of pain, but he loved each stride because running distilled him to his essence and the heat hastened this distillation."
My goal was to run 10k MP (
After arriving at the battleground, I drained half the bottle, drew a line across the dirt track, laughed, and began. Scorching would be an understatement! I made sure to build the first lap and then concentrated on finding a comfortable (and I use that term loosely) relaxed pace, the first four kilometres passing in
After reaching the golf course, I was parched and stopped at the fountain outside the clubhouse for a quick drink. As the water trickled down my parched throat, I looked to my left to see a flood of water coming from the underside of a planter that was hanging down from one of support beams. Not wanting to pass by a golden opportunity, I stood underneath the pot for a few additional seconds as the icy cold stream ran over my head. In those conditions I’m happy with the workout but rather than concentrate on pace, or reap the full benefits of the training, I feel too much energy was spent just trying to survive.
And then there was today, at
Training:
Monday: day off (scheduled)
Tuesday:
Wednesday: undulating/ridiculously hot 50:43