Beating a dead horse
(or nearly so (dead that is, not beating(multiple paranthesis alert)))
I’m gonna’ get in shape. Boastful words, spoken in jest or in vain, mistakenly, or as a downright lie at least 1000 times more often than as a sincere, well thought out statement of intent. A vow usually made with no more capability of being carried out than the oldtime song title, “Honey, all night long.” Still, I’m gonna’ get in shape.
I make the statement in public as a motivational device. There is at least a minimal chance that someone will read this and observe that I’ve failed miserably (if I do) in a few months and will seize upon the opportunity to mock and humiliate me more than my acquaintances usually do when I meet them in public.
Why bother at this late date when I’ve one foot in the grave and the other on a slick spot?
For one thing, I am simply curious about what degree of physical ability I have left at this point in my life, one of the questions to be answered as part of my 10 good summers. Back in my 30’s when I was a recreational distance runner, I could maintain a pace of 5:30 per mile for a 10K run (6.2 mi.) It’s been 20 years since I have trained in any meaningful fashion, so this will be a start from just about ground zero. It takes 3 to 5 years to train for maximum performance in a distance race, and I seriously doubt that I will want to work that hard. 90% of the results will come in 12 to 18 months, that might be a little more reasonable.
Another is that I have developed a fascination with flatfoot dancing, an interest that was strongly reinforced a few weeks ago be seeing a live performance by Ira Bernstein. Holy crap, the man can dance. I have quickly discovered that a performance quality flatfoot dance is about equal to an all out sprint of ½ mile or so. That ain’t going to happen without flagellating the old body a bit.
And finally, it just feels good and I like it. Everything is better, you can get up earlier, stay up later, do more of whatever, and to paraphrase Davy Crockett, dive deeper and come up dryer. Best reason not to do it is stupidity. (Which has been sufficient for me the last 20 years or so.)
So I’m gonna’ run. Almost all distance runners are fanatically detail oriented so I will run 4 times, 3 miles each, 10 minutes per mile or faster the first week. I will add one mile per week for 12 weeks and bring the pace down to 9 minutes over that time. I will then take 1 week off and resume by adding ½ mile per week for 12 more weeks which will bring me to 32 miles per week. Pace at that time will be 8:30. Another week off, then 12 weeks to work the pace down to 8:00 or better per mile. Thus will run 32 miles at below 8 minutes per mile the week of Nov. 12, 2006. At that point, I will take a week off and decide between maintenance at that level and preparing for some age group racing in 2007. I will be more physically fit than 98% of the US population.
The first two weeks are done, 36 weeks to go. Deal is off in the event of serious injury, death, dismemberment, capture and beheading by fundamentalist Methodists, high speed collision with a deer in the road without benefit of car, you know the possibilities. We shall see.
I’m gonna’ get in shape. Boastful words, spoken in jest or in vain, mistakenly, or as a downright lie at least 1000 times more often than as a sincere, well thought out statement of intent. A vow usually made with no more capability of being carried out than the oldtime song title, “Honey, all night long.” Still, I’m gonna’ get in shape.
I make the statement in public as a motivational device. There is at least a minimal chance that someone will read this and observe that I’ve failed miserably (if I do) in a few months and will seize upon the opportunity to mock and humiliate me more than my acquaintances usually do when I meet them in public.
Why bother at this late date when I’ve one foot in the grave and the other on a slick spot?
For one thing, I am simply curious about what degree of physical ability I have left at this point in my life, one of the questions to be answered as part of my 10 good summers. Back in my 30’s when I was a recreational distance runner, I could maintain a pace of 5:30 per mile for a 10K run (6.2 mi.) It’s been 20 years since I have trained in any meaningful fashion, so this will be a start from just about ground zero. It takes 3 to 5 years to train for maximum performance in a distance race, and I seriously doubt that I will want to work that hard. 90% of the results will come in 12 to 18 months, that might be a little more reasonable.
Another is that I have developed a fascination with flatfoot dancing, an interest that was strongly reinforced a few weeks ago be seeing a live performance by Ira Bernstein. Holy crap, the man can dance. I have quickly discovered that a performance quality flatfoot dance is about equal to an all out sprint of ½ mile or so. That ain’t going to happen without flagellating the old body a bit.
And finally, it just feels good and I like it. Everything is better, you can get up earlier, stay up later, do more of whatever, and to paraphrase Davy Crockett, dive deeper and come up dryer. Best reason not to do it is stupidity. (Which has been sufficient for me the last 20 years or so.)
So I’m gonna’ run. Almost all distance runners are fanatically detail oriented so I will run 4 times, 3 miles each, 10 minutes per mile or faster the first week. I will add one mile per week for 12 weeks and bring the pace down to 9 minutes over that time. I will then take 1 week off and resume by adding ½ mile per week for 12 more weeks which will bring me to 32 miles per week. Pace at that time will be 8:30. Another week off, then 12 weeks to work the pace down to 8:00 or better per mile. Thus will run 32 miles at below 8 minutes per mile the week of Nov. 12, 2006. At that point, I will take a week off and decide between maintenance at that level and preparing for some age group racing in 2007. I will be more physically fit than 98% of the US population.
The first two weeks are done, 36 weeks to go. Deal is off in the event of serious injury, death, dismemberment, capture and beheading by fundamentalist Methodists, high speed collision with a deer in the road without benefit of car, you know the possibilities. We shall see.
posted by tickmeister at 8:21 PM
2 Comments:
1 month done. Ran 12, 14, 15, and 16 miles those 4 weeks as planned. Pace goal 10:00, 9:50, 9:45, 9:40. Actual 9:50, 9:51, 9:32, 9:19. Nothing hurts yet. Plus, I overcame an excuse. Nothing like a good excuse to wreck a conditioning program. Mine was a bad cold in week 2. I slowed down 1 second per mile from week one, but still ran the miles.
No heat here yet, only about 80. I used to live in Hutchinson, KS, ran to and from work one summer, 7 miles each way. The trip home was often well over 100 Deg. F.
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