The answer: Two Klondike bars, three popsicles and a peanut butter sandwich with some questionable organic sugar-free preserves.
The question: What should you not eat just before running when it’s 100 degrees?
It’s Day 1 of what I swear will be my last attempt at this silliness before I give up forever and die. I have once again signed my credit card over to Uncle Hal, who has devised an Official Training Plan that did NOT mention abstaining from ice cream before running. But, really. How hard can 3 miles at a 14:00 pace be? A humbling start.
Some guy driving a BMW is blasting Bob Marley while running three scrawny kids through passing drills. Shouldn’t there be some sort of qualifying test before you’re allowed to play Marley like that? I’m running the T-Rex loop, so I get six choruses. Note to self: Always bring headphones. And maybe a popsicle.
Do not chase the missing dog, the sign warns me. Like a 14-minute pace is going to catch a dog. And I am forbidden from exceeding the pace. Uncle Hal is watching.
The governor today finally shut down bars and gatherings and pools and movie theaters again in the face of overwhelming evidence that we’re all going to be dead soon. Which raises the question of why the hell am I beginning a training plan at such an odd time, when races are unlikely to happen forever. I guess it’s just to have something, anything, to look forward to. It’s got to get better eventually, right? Maybe?
So I’m making a run for it. If 14-minute pace can be considered a run. Maybe if you squint and eat a Klondike bar. Don’t worry about a thing. Every little thing is gonna be alright. So why am I still worrying?
3 miles, 41:44 (13:56-126)
T-rex, 5 p.m., 100
162 0.71 2.9 v38
13:54 (119), 13:54 (129), 13:58 (129)
blue kazoo 73.2