| I hadn't run since my 10-miler the previous Saturday. I'm still trying to get my circadian rhythm back on Arizona time. I've been falling asleep super early and waking up super early. I've forced myself to stay up late the last 2 nights in an attempt to finally get back on track. Meanwhile, I just have NOT felt like running during the week. Barry was out of town this week, hiking in the Grand Canyon. Bill was busy, too, volunteering at the Ironman Triathlon Arizona. Incindentally, those people are NUTS! Swimming 2.4 miles, biking 112 miles and then running 26.2 miles?!?!? I tip my hat to you folks! Anyway, Bill and I put our immense anyalytical brains together and figured out that if he started at Granada Park and ran a 7-mile out-and-back, I could join him for the last 11 miles. The only problem is that he had to attend a volunteer meeting at 9AM on Saturday and would be at the Ironman all day Sunday. So the only opprtunity we would have would be Saturday afternoon. The forecast called for temps in the low 80's. That didn't seem so bad at the time. Boy, were we wrong. Bill started his run at about 11AM, running west on the canal from Granada park. He turned around a little past Central Ave. and headed back toward the park. I arrived at the park at around 11:45 and was waiting for him when he arrived. I thought he looked a little sweatier than I expected, but I shrugged it off. After filling up his water bottles, we headed east on the canal. We started off at a good, moderate pace. I had the typical little aches and pains pop up in various places in my legs, but everything loosened up pretty quickly. The first 2 miles were pretty uneventful. We chugged along at about an 8:45 pace. The first sign of trouble came as we were crossing 32nd Street. As we crossed, Bill seemed to cross a little slower than I would expect. "Was he... walking?" I thought. I asked him if he was feeling OK, and he gave me an unconvincing nod. A half mile later, I turned to say something, and saw Bill walking. What the...? He confirmed that he just wasn't feeling it that day. The rest of the way down to our turnaround at 56th Street we alternated good, strong pace (e.g. we were at a sub-8:00 pace as we approached 40th Street) with short walk breaks). When we got to 56th Street, I asked Bill if he had bonked. "Yep," he said. Bummer! We walked over to the restroom, and cooled off with some water. For the first time I could feel how hot I was. Even though it felt nice out, it was a real crummy day to be running. The water I splashed on my face felt really cold, meaning I was really hot. The run back was a slower affair than the way out. We alternated running and walking, trying to be careful not to overdo it. When I thought Bill was on the verge of quitting, I would tell him some story to keep his mind off it. It seemed to work okay, and we run-walked together for the 5 mile return trip. Bill did better than I did when I bonked on this same route back in the spring. With about 3/4 mile to go, Bill talked me into running the last segment myself. I took off and hit a 6:05 pace. Yikes! The heat hit me in the face like a punch. I slowed to a slow jog for a couple seconds, and then took it to the finish line at a more reasonable 7:00 pace. Bill finished only a couple minutes behind me, and he came in running. I did my 11 miles, and he did his 18. The heat made this a pretty tough run for both of us. Bill seemed bummed about it, but I figure that days like this remind us that we're mortal. I'm reminded of the Hebrew folktale of King Solomon, from whence the phrase "This too shall pass" comes. I'm also reminded of the quote from Dean Karnazes I have on the top of my blog: "Run when you can, walk when you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up." Amen! Activity
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Sunday, November 23, 2008
Bonk!
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