I was RUN-NING...

So I'd like to know what kind of crazy crack I'm on.

Yesterday, Matt and I set out for our long run--he wanted to go 10 miles (which was AWESOME! So proud of him!) and I needed to go about 2 hours. I figured I'd just go with what felt good and truck along.

Turns out, the weather was perfect TriSaraTops weather: 51, a little bit windy, and cloudy. I LOOOOOOVE it when it's that temperature. I put on shorts and a long sleeved cool-max t-shirt. Perfect.

So what felt "good" ended up being pretty darn fast. For me, that is. Today I taught briefly about popular culture and sports in the 1950s and we mentioned Roger Bannister's 4 minute mile. Now, I am just not that fast--not even close. The fastest mile I've ever run was the first mile of the Old Oak Run back in 2003 I think...I got to Mile 1 thinking, "Gee, there's not too many people around me..." The kid at Mile 1 yelled out the times:

"6:32, 6:33, 6:34...."

I'm not proud to admit that I then proceeded to yell the F word pretty loud, because I knew what that mile 1 time meant.

Sure enough, around mile 1.75: GASP. WHEEZ. Poop. Blew that chance at a PR. :)

Guys like Zeke, Papa Louie, and all you other speed demons out there can do that pace while running up a hill, balancing a hockey stick on their nose, and simultaneously juggling three turtles. But for me that's a rare occasion.

Mostly, I'm pretty much a top-third age grouper who brings home hardware in smaller races.

So, again, "good" for me (average effort, not too hard at all) on a long run is usually around 9:45-10:15.

But for some reason, yesterday, "good" and "not much effort" was 9:11. The whole time. My last mile was 8:57.

What am I on? Seriously!

I think the answer to that is "hills" and "weights." The past few weeks I've been doing the Hinckley Hills with Iron Johnny and really focusing on weights and core. That's the only explanation I have for running 13 miles yesterday feeling pretty average and finishing 5 minutes off my half-marathon PR.

What the heck is happening to me?

Hey, it's good, so I'll take it. :)

I was at the grocery store today, getting stuff for dinner, and managed to find what I think were the last 5 bottles of Endurance Formula Gatorade in northeastern Ohio. I'm not kiddin'. I can't find this schtuff anywhere. So I then had a conversation with the 16ish check out girl that went something like this:

Me: Um, do you know if you guys can order more of this stuff? I just bought everything you had.
COG: (eyeing me strangely, like you look at someone who is talking to themself on the street) Uhhhh...no. What is that?
Me: (rather sheepish, as if I've just been caught smoking in the bathroom) Um, endurance gatorade.
COG: What do you need all THAT for?
Me: Well, um, it's on my race course so I figured I'd give it a try.
COG: What race course is that?
Me:.....Ironman Wisconsin....it's like this triathlon....
COG: (eyes get big)
Me: and...it's really...uh, long...
COG: No, I know what it is. Wow!
Me: Yeah, you know, it should be....um..fun...
COG: That's awesome. I'd never be able to do that.
Me: (suddently the ums and likes are gone and I get serious) Yes you could. I said I'd never be able to do it just a few years ago.
COG: Really?
Me: Really!
COG: Good luck!
Me: Thanks!

So maybe I'd pass along the tri-bug that way. After all, when I was 16ish if someone told me I'd do an Ironman in 12 years, I'd laugh at that person really hard.

And somehow now I can go out and run 13 miles at a 9:11 pace after a day of lifting weights and still stay up to watch the Tribe game. Well, not all the game. Come on, it ended after 2am. From what I read it doesn't sound like I missed anything worth staying up too late for.

But we're still winning the Central. As I've said every year since I could talk, "This is our year." :)

This is MY year.

I can just tell.