Here's today's Name That Tune: "Bah-ba-da-baaaaah, dada-dummmmm; buduh-BAbabopBOPbah, baddah-baddah-bahhhh. Bah-ba-da-bahhhhh, dada-dada-dummmmmm; Bomp-ba-ba-bOMMMMMMMMMM; Buh-BAH. Bah. BAH-BOM. BOMP!"
I don't know why these things keep coming into my head when I run, the unassociated flotsam of a lifetime. Perhaps it's because there comes a point in the run when the mind has nothing else to do -- and being so freed, such a rare thing, it freely takes a vacation and goes rummaging in the Big Mental Trunk in the Attic. And out come the oldest of relics, though oddly not the least bit dusty. Today's Name That Tune is one of them - a theme I hadn't had running through my head in a few years.
It was even more bizarre yesterday, when right around 91st street, a mile shy of my goal, this creature popped into my head:
Remember Danger Mouse? No? I swear, not even the shadow of a ghost of the thought of that cartoon has entered my consciousness in a little over 20 years - and yesterday he popped fully fledged, in full motion, with that awesome English accent of his, into my forethoughts. Luckily, I didn't actually hallucinate him, or else I'd've sat down and called for an ambulance.
Long runs tend to let the pendulums of the mind swing free. There are two things going on, opposite pressures, that result in this. One is practicing associative running - keeping your mind on the road and the run and those things only. THAT can result in being hyperfocused, with the effect that the subconscious has room to wriggle, because the consciousness isn't focused on keeping it down. The other thing is the disassociative running - either on purpose or because the mind simply gets bored or the mind can't listen to the body anymore. All of a sudden, the consciousness is everywhere except the road and the run. And out of the dustbins of time, come refreshing and funny spectres like Danger Mouse.
Today's run was a solid 10-miler. It was a GOOD run, just shy of great. I stuck to my game plan. Got plenty of food and sleep the night before, took my time getting out of the house, took the subway to the park, stretched a lot before the run. Stashed my stuff in my special watering hole tree and headed out at a slow pace. The first loop of the park was hard; the shin and thigh pains were back. But I assured myself the pain would be gone before two miles were through - and sure enough that's what happened. (This is a good sign, since these pains are getting shorter and shorter.) I had a hard time getting up the North hill in Prospect Park, but did make it to the top before giving myself a mini-break.* As I was coming up on the end of the first loop, I passed a familiar face...
I stopped at the watering hole for a stretch break and to slug some gel and get my breathing under control. By this time I was finally warmed up. The day was 20 degrees cooler than yesterday and I'd added a baseball cap and a long-sleeve tech-T - perfect gear. Still in shorts, felt good. Anyway, back on the road, I took the "easy" direction for the second loop. Again, I passed the familiar face and boomed out "it's Neil, isn't it?" inquiring if this was the same Neil I'd made a running acquaintance with many moons ago. For a second, he seemed startled and I could see in his face puzzlement; but then he remembered, too, and confirmed his identity. How could I not recognize him, with his flowing hair and big beard and pell-mell trail running? How could he not recognize me with my blue-mirror shades?
Second loop wasn't as hard as the first, but I could feel fatigue creeping up; I found it hard to stay consistent in the pacing, and coming up the South hill was too much; I had to take a mini-break half-way up. Damn.
I took the easy direction on the third loop, too, but something odd happened: I zoned out. I went from associative running to disassociative. In fact, I found myself puzzling over some scenic design problems to be solved at work and actually came up with some really exciting solutions that I think should be nicely received. That doesn't excuse the fact that I found myself two miles later having run VERY consistently and at a good 1/2-marathon pace completely on auto-pilot. The hill got me again and I had to take a micro-break, even though I was only 1/4-mile from being done. Oh, well. My legs had been starting to get very sore and slowly cramp down near the lake, so I was glad this was the end of the run. I took a lot of time stretching in the grass before heading home, sucking down Recoverite.
Really, it was a great run if I think about it, but the fact I couldn't make it a continuous run bugs me. Still, I did a good 10-miler in a crowded, hilly park and I think that's sound training for race running on Nashville hills. I don't know if I should taper for the next two weeks or just go for a twelve-miler in Central Park next weekend; we'll see. Either way, I think I'm ready to tackle 13.1 in Nashville.
*Short of a real break in the running, I have three kinds of rests: mini-breaks (walking 25 paces or less), micro-breaks (walking 5 paces or less), and running rests (slowly way the hell down after a hard exertion for about 100 paces).
No comments:
Post a Comment