Last weekend, I did not go to any race. I was resting and running a few quick miles in preparation for this weekend. I was entered in a half marathon. That is a sprint comparatively speaking. On well rested legs, I had decided to try to see how fast I could do it.
The weather was fantastic. The race is only 15 miles from my house, so a little extra sleep. I parked in a fantastic spot. For some reason, the horn to go came 5 minutes early (never had that happen before).
So I take off at whatever speed the pack seemed to be going. Turns out, the first mile was 10.5 minutes per mile. It felt ok so I just kept going. I took a quick pit stop at 2 miles since the porta was empty and I knew I wasn't going to last the entire race. This worked out good. It gave me the freedom to drink when I needed and my bladder lasted through the rest of the race. Going up the Hartman bridge at mile 6 went well, and I came down pretty fast. By mile 9, my legs were feeling fatigue. I hadn't run this fast with no walk breaks for years. I kept the speed up until after mile 12 when my knee started to twinge a bit. Then I had to give it a break and walk a little.
I still finished in 2h18min. I did average 10.5 min/mile. On jog walk training and short runs at 12 min/mile. There must be some innate speed in me. But due to the knee, I always take it easy.
I went out jogging today. There were no issues from yesterday.
I spent the afternoon in silent conversation with my God. You know how your tongue worries over any roughness in your mouth? That is how my mind is over conscious contact with God. It wasn't just an easy and well funded life I wanted. I know my short comings. But somewhere in the process of running, working, monastic life, spiritual studies, there is the answer. Sitting quietly in contemplation, I know it but cannot speak of it.
Swag from this weeks race:
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