The 70 degrees of Kevin Bacon

The depressing truth: I don’t suffer enough when I train.

I thought about this a lot last weekend. As we started up a hill that was an unrelenting 1.5 mile climb, I thought about how many times I do this sort of workout in training. I came up with a rough estimate: Um, zero. I tend to run a flat course outside (not too many mountains along the ocean), and dabble in teeny hills on the treadmill, because, well, I’m a sissy.

So today I decided to get serious. Yes, I frowned for the entire workout. But I also set the treadmill to “GOOD LORD WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?” or whatever that hill mode is.

Basically, a short warmup followed by steep, steeper and hey, aren’t those mountain goats down below? And it was great. I suffered terribly. But miles in the bank, and if I do this enough, I’ll be ready for Revvvvvvy Ranch. And then, look out, Jornet!

But here’s the trick. Trail running has a lot of rocks and bumps and sticks and stumps that you just can’t simulate on a treadmill. So what can you do inside to add enough suffering that it’s a good substitute workout?

That’s right. I watched “Footloose.” With no volume.

It’s like playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, only a little warmer. For those not familiar with the story, a Chicago boy with a skinny tie corrupts a small rural town with German compact cars and Kenny Loggins music. It’s built around a fine soundtrack which is totally lost on mute, so basically you’re left with Bacon prancercizing and John Lithgow looking constipated. Suffering? I got your suffering.

Three miles of climbs and then two miles of flatland. Hopefully I’ll be a little better trained by the time the next race comes around. Maybe they’ll be playing Kenny Loggins at the finish.

It’s all about specificity of training, you know. Which makes me think. They just announced they’ll have s’mores at the race. Better start training for that too …

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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