Well if the indestructible and indefatigable Livermore can complain about the weather (on Facebook this afternoon) then surely I can too. Actually, it was a typical mid-January day in Portland—April 1? Huh?—chilly and raining lightly but steadily. When I got out for a run at 6 a.m., it was still down in the 30s. Springtime, my ass. But while I’ll never ride in cold wet weather, running in it doesn’t bother me so much. You don’t get as wet—there’s not all that water spraying up on you—and at seven or eight miles per hour there’s not nearly the wind that beats on you at 20 mph. I went for 10 this morning and what really bothered me about the run was that my legs felt dead. Not exactly shocking considering I had been sleeping 20 minutes before the run began, and that I somehow got out the door without plunging the caffeine IV into my vein yet. I can sort of pull off a decent ride without coffee, but running is another story. It was a slog, but that’s OK, I wanted to run at a slow pace, clicking off nine-minute miles, and that’s what I did. Later, it was swim time. First 1000 yards at a steady pace. Then a couple of hard 500s. That was it. More miles, more yards, another day closer to Ironman Coeur d’Alene. As predictable as a rainy spring day in Portland.
No comments:
Post a Comment