Sunday, November 17, 2013
The past few years I have accepted the fact I am older and the best foot forward is a steady diet of 50 mile weeks and 8 weeks at 55-65 before Ice Age. That actually looks pretty darn smart and I am glad I am me. I will run around and pontificate on how bright I am and all that matters is enjoying running for what it is and I really don't care to race anymore. This is largely true and I have tried to slide into the "live for another day" mantra, but this is hogwash. I don't want to go away quitely. I also don't want to do speedwork and stuff so I won't. Deep down...I'm not dead yet. Not even mortally wounded. So there is no plan other than attempt to run more miles and pile it on. Training plans come down to two main choices for me. The one when you are real smart. You lay out the weekly limits/workouts and embody rest. You know...all the stuff one wants to hear about absorbing the training, having something for the key workouts, blah-blah-imokyourok-blah-blah. I'm thinking more along the lines of take your vitamins and say your prayers because we have the ball game on up here. Grab your coat and get your hat because the bus is leaving. Charlie don't surf. Get out and run...no plan and no pace requirements. Plan on being tired a lot. "Man Dehart looks beat...is he okay?" Pack a lunch.