Almost every work day the Beast and I get coffee together. We joke that we are work wed as we are often seen together. Indeed, there is no one else I confess as much to on any given Monday. But. There is another confession I must make. I’m using him for his wife at the moment. She’s a runner. Or. She used to be a runner. Or, she’s a ex-runner returning to the run. Or something like that. I’m not really sure. Anyway, Best Beast will come to work and report the wifey ran six miles. 5.2 to 5.8 miles per hour and getting faster. I drool over the details because I have been dead in the water for three weeks now. May 3rd seems so long ago. I’m beginning to think 13.1 was someone else’s run. Or just a dream I had. Obviously, I need a fix.
It got to me. All this talk about running; it finally wore me down. Mrs. Beastie’s return to the run had me jealous with a capital J. I couldn’t believe how much covet her treadmill time. I’m insanely jealous of her anything having to do with the run. Ridiculously so. So much so that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I told Kisa, “tonight I run. Training be damned. I’m doomed anyway. I’d rather run. Fukc the walk.” Those were my exact words.
Getting back on the New Guinea tread was like revisiting an old lover. Remember me? I was tempted to go mind numbingly slow in case I’ve lost my edge. I couldn’t remember the rule – at what point do you lose cardio endurance? But, after five minutes at a 12 minute pace I told myself I was letting my old nemesis, Fear, get the better of me. Up went the incline and the speed. At the end, all told – 3.44 miles in 35 minutes. 10.11 pace. Nice and easy. No red face. No shortness of breath. Just the sheer satisfaction of cavorting with the Guinea.
Like an addict I just couldn’t stay away from the run. But, But. But! I’m a smart junkie. This is my last run until next Tuesday. I promise. 😉