Early morning, and I mean...Ass up and out of bed on Sunday morning for an 'Og, which turned into a 5K sprint.
It's always the same, I lay in bed thinking about what I SHOULD do, versus what I want to do.
Lazy Sunday at 0430 (remember, that's sleeping in at Casa de Selkow), Big lazy dog on my right, my lovely wife on the left snuggled in. I'm listening to the house, and BAM! I get the harebrained idea..."Let's RUN"
It's dark! So??? It's cold! So??? This is sore! So??? That needs rest! So?
Up and out.
The pace starts the same as always in the empty park behind my house. 10 minute mile (Remember, I was the veteran of numerous Triathlons in the 80's, so I know the pace by feel. I wear no watch )
My bride and pooch stride'n nicely next to me in my fatassed shuffle.
We warm up and with that the pace quickens. I can feel the familiar tightening in my pecs as my lungs expand to compensate for the loss of oxygen.
The system kicks into full swing, when I know my reconditioned lungs start to whistle "Dixie" Then "Georgia On My Mind".
As we round the half way mark, I feel the pace of an 8:00 mile in my quads and hamstrings.
Now my lungs are blowing train whistles and the drum beat of my heart is loud in my ears.
As I hack and spit up small states, I see our end mark! Now the pace is a sprint! I'm working HARD at about 6:30 pace, 200 yards out.
Rocky Balboa's steps have nothing on me!
We finish with a brief walk to cool off. As I hit my back gate, I can now feel everything calming down. I look to see my wife and dog, NOT EVEN BREATHING HARD!
FAK!!!!! I need to do more of these.
Bacon and Egg time! Hockey game in a few, THEN to Christmas grocery shop. I'm thinking Prime Rib for Christmas dinner.