17-mile long run
2 days in PVD
If my first 100-mile week was all midgets and sunshine, this second one felt more like ogres and a wicked sunburn. Yes, that might officially be the most abysmally crafted metaphor of all time, but it's only fitting for a week when my daily slogs felt anything but eloquent. It seems I sailed blissfully through the first high-mileage week with my body being none the wiser. I was, to belabor my figurative point, like the proverbial frog brought slowly to a boil completely unawares. This week, however, I was decidedly awares. From the first few steps out the door on Monday morning, my triumph turned to the sober realization that this week would not be quite the same frolicky fun as the week prior. Monday and Tuesday weren't too terrible, but the real low point came on the 4th of July. Enjoying our day off just as the founding fathers envisioned, we slept in until well past 8am, not heading out for our medium long 14-miler until at least 10. It was hot, it was humid, and I was hurting. There are some days when I am supremely grateful to not own a Garmin, and this was certainly one of them.
Fortunately, the tides slowly began to turn toward the end of the week. I enjoyed an unexpectedly chipper uptempo run with the Wicked group on Thursday night, then treated myself (in the masochistic sense of the word) to a deep-tissue massage on Friday before heading down to Providence for the weekend to spend time with our favorite Olympian, Kim, and her betrothed, Pat. Having been recently gifted a fryolator by our other favorite newly-minted Olympian, Molly, the plan for dinner was simple: fry everything in the house. Turns out this is the diet secret kept under wraps by the world's best runners. After a delightfully battered evening during which I ate various and sundry flour-masked vegetables including, but certainly not limited to, a stalk of "tempura" broccoli the approximate size and shape of a sequoia tree, one would think I might feel a bit sluggish on my Saturday run--not ideal when trying to keep pace with Kim and Molly. Fortunately the former had dragged Jordan through a 22-miler the day before and the latter had also worked out on Friday, so the pace for their easy recovery jaunt was "quite slow" (Kim's words). The relaxing weekend continued while Kim and I alternated between shopping, eating, trolling the twitterfeeds and lolling about in a state of general laziness for the remainder of Saturday. Up and early Sunday morning, Jordan and I hit the road back to Salem--but not without a quick stop in Natick to run long with Brett and her husband Matt. As an added bonus, we somehow walked out of their house the recipients of a good half dozen bottles of wine which they collected over the past three years and we will probably consume within the next three weeks. Gotta stay hydrated, right?
And so, my second 100-mile week is in the books, albeit wearily. I'm hoping week three will find my body somewhat normalized and, dare I say, accustomed to this daily toil I'm forcing upon it. If nothing else, it gives me an excuse to indulge in a Frappuccino (with whip!) almost daily.
Sunday, July 8, 2012