Raindrops
by Robert James Reese » November 8th, 2008 » 5 Comments
They don't get any better than this. Perfect weather, relatively little pain, and lots of speed. It didn't happen as planned though... When I woke up this morning, I just had this feeling that today was not the day for the George Washington Bridge run to happen. Maybe it was the fact that both my friends who were going to run it with me backed out because of injury, or because of the ugly storm clouds that were already rolling in, or maybe it was because of my body already felt completely beat up and sore before I even laced up my running shoes. Then again, maybe it was all three. Point is, for once, I listened to the omens and so, instead of heading towards New Jersey, I hopped on the 6 and headed down to 59th Street.
I stretched, gave a little old German couple directions to the Guggenheim, watched the carriages roll by with the leaves floating down on top of them. The air was crisp, the way it only is right before it rains. It looked exactly like the stereotypical autumn day in Central Park. In a word: beautiful.
The first half a lap was rough. I was still struggling to find my rhythm, working out the kinks when this guy decides to start using me as a pacing bunny. Normally, I don't mind too much when people do that (I've even done it myself to others), as long as they do it respectfully. But, this guy was not giving me my space at all and he was breathing loud and smelled bad. I knew I had a long run ahead of me, so I slowed down to let him pass. He didn't. He stuck right next to me. I slowed down more. Same thing. So, I tried speeding up. He sped up. Are you kidding me? I was getting real annoyed and gave him a nasty glare but he wouldn't bug off. So, finally I decided to just out run him. I picked up the pace a lot (my Nike+ said my pace was 6:10) and, still, he tries keeping up with me. Fucker was right there for like half a mile struggling before finally turning off onto a path and immediately slowing to a walk. I gradually eased back into a more sustainable pace, but it was tough to do. I was pissed off and wanted to just run really hard. But my brain told me not to do that and, even though I didn't want to, I listened.
That whole ordeal brought me up to the Great Hill, which I attacked with vigor. I love/hate that hill so much. In fact, it's probably my favorite stretch of pavement in the entire world. After the hill, the rest of the first lap was fairly standard. Left foot, right foot, repeat. I hit a huge second wind at Museum Mile (probably about mile 8) and opened up my stride. I can't even begin to express in words how good that felt. The second go at the Great Hill wasn't quite as aggressive as the first, but it was still solid. I completely zoned out after reaching the top of it, then all of a sudden, I was down at the bottom of the park again and the drizzle had turned into hard rain. I have no memory at all of those three miles. Weird. When I hit two laps, I looked at my watch and realized I had slowed down quite a bit during my little daydream there. I picked the pace back up and, as I did so, the rain began to intensify. It was as if the sky were trying to match my exertion. By the time I got back to Museum Mile, it was, as they say, "raining cats and dogs." I was completely soaked, but kept up a solid pace. At the bottom of the hill near the Harlem Meer, the rain was beginning to puddle bad and I was glad that my run was coming to a close. Last thing I need is to slip and fall on wet leaves. Anyway, I found enough left over in the tank to sprint out the last 200 yards and, wow, that felt good.
So, the final numbers: 15.07 miles in 1:45:15, or if you prefer, a 6:59 pace! Yes, that's right, two-and-a-half loops of Central Park in sub-seven-minute miles (with no refreshment stops). I couldn't even have dreamed of doing that a few months ago. It is so good to see all this work paying off. Now, it's just two more weeks of taper and then the real challenge.
I'll leave you all with the mantra that was going through my head during almost all of today's run: Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston...
I stretched, gave a little old German couple directions to the Guggenheim, watched the carriages roll by with the leaves floating down on top of them. The air was crisp, the way it only is right before it rains. It looked exactly like the stereotypical autumn day in Central Park. In a word: beautiful.
The first half a lap was rough. I was still struggling to find my rhythm, working out the kinks when this guy decides to start using me as a pacing bunny. Normally, I don't mind too much when people do that (I've even done it myself to others), as long as they do it respectfully. But, this guy was not giving me my space at all and he was breathing loud and smelled bad. I knew I had a long run ahead of me, so I slowed down to let him pass. He didn't. He stuck right next to me. I slowed down more. Same thing. So, I tried speeding up. He sped up. Are you kidding me? I was getting real annoyed and gave him a nasty glare but he wouldn't bug off. So, finally I decided to just out run him. I picked up the pace a lot (my Nike+ said my pace was 6:10) and, still, he tries keeping up with me. Fucker was right there for like half a mile struggling before finally turning off onto a path and immediately slowing to a walk. I gradually eased back into a more sustainable pace, but it was tough to do. I was pissed off and wanted to just run really hard. But my brain told me not to do that and, even though I didn't want to, I listened.
That whole ordeal brought me up to the Great Hill, which I attacked with vigor. I love/hate that hill so much. In fact, it's probably my favorite stretch of pavement in the entire world. After the hill, the rest of the first lap was fairly standard. Left foot, right foot, repeat. I hit a huge second wind at Museum Mile (probably about mile 8) and opened up my stride. I can't even begin to express in words how good that felt. The second go at the Great Hill wasn't quite as aggressive as the first, but it was still solid. I completely zoned out after reaching the top of it, then all of a sudden, I was down at the bottom of the park again and the drizzle had turned into hard rain. I have no memory at all of those three miles. Weird. When I hit two laps, I looked at my watch and realized I had slowed down quite a bit during my little daydream there. I picked the pace back up and, as I did so, the rain began to intensify. It was as if the sky were trying to match my exertion. By the time I got back to Museum Mile, it was, as they say, "raining cats and dogs." I was completely soaked, but kept up a solid pace. At the bottom of the hill near the Harlem Meer, the rain was beginning to puddle bad and I was glad that my run was coming to a close. Last thing I need is to slip and fall on wet leaves. Anyway, I found enough left over in the tank to sprint out the last 200 yards and, wow, that felt good.
So, the final numbers: 15.07 miles in 1:45:15, or if you prefer, a 6:59 pace! Yes, that's right, two-and-a-half loops of Central Park in sub-seven-minute miles (with no refreshment stops). I couldn't even have dreamed of doing that a few months ago. It is so good to see all this work paying off. Now, it's just two more weeks of taper and then the real challenge.
I'll leave you all with the mantra that was going through my head during almost all of today's run: Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston...
5 Comments
Look out Boston...he's on a mission:)
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