Here it is Tuesday and I have not posted since Monday a week ago. Oh well. Last week was a good one for training. Tuesday I did 41:00 minutes on the bike trainer, ran three miles, and swam at Masters. The Mad Swimming Scientist was in top form and lived up to his moniker. As usual, after we warmed up, he walked over and said, "OK, this is what we're going to do." He always says, "OK, this is what we're going to do." Then he added, "We're going to do eight 50s." Mark Blackwood and I were the only ones there that night, so we did our eight 50s. Then he came back over and said, "We're going to do eight 50s." So we did eight more 50s. Once more he came to deckside and mechanically announced, "We're going to do eight 50s." We did eight more 50s. He came back and said, "We're going to do eight 50s." Are you tired of reading this yet? You should try hearing it live and swimming it. He came back and said--you guessed it--"We're going to do eight 50s." We swam
800
8 X 50 as 4 @ 1:30/4 @ 1:15
8 X 50 as 4 @ 1:15/4 @ 1:00
8 X 50 as 4 @ 1:00/ 4 @ 1:15
8 X 50 as 4 @ 1:15/4 @ 1:30
400 pull with paddles breathing 3, 5, 7, choice by 25s
8 X 50 as 25 hard/25 easy @ 1:15
400 easy
Total: 3,600 meters.
Wednesday I had to work registration, but they fed us hot dogs and even had coffee available. Hey, that wasn't so bad. I managed 30:00 minutes on the bike trainer, 2.83 miles of running, some weightlifting, and 2,500 metes of swimming at Twin Rivers.
Thursday was only 21:00 minutes on the trainer followed by an easy 2.61 mile shuffle. At Masters, the Mad Swimming Scientist exploded my brain and my arms. I can't give all the details on this practice because it's way too complicated. In fact, I don't know how he expects us or anyone to count four things at once and swim every 100 meters several ways by 25s and keep up with all of that while alternating your breathing pattern every 25 meters, then 50 then 25, then 75, WHAT!? Oh heck, the headache is back. Anyway, in broad outline we swam
1,100
8 X 100
2 X 400 pull with paddles
800
4 X 50 progressive
300
Total: 4,000 meters and one blister on the brain.
Friday I only shuffled 2.41 miles because Saturday my son Forrest and I were up early and on our way to Leland, MS where we hopped aboard a shuttle bus loaded with ugly people to be commuted to Tribbett, MS where allegedly was the start of the Hotter Than Hades Half Marathon. Tribbett, MS is not really a town. From what I can tell, it's not even a ghost town. In fact, it's not even a crossroads. Tribbett, MS is a T in a lonely road surrounded by corn and soybean fields. People exited the buses and stood in line in a farm shop to use the bathroom. Then we were directed to walk down a dirt turnrow to "the start." Really. On the way some African-American gentleman, who was obviously not from around here, became nervous, almost agitated. "Is this really the way to the start?" he kept asking. "I don't see a starting line," he said suspiciously more than once. "Why are all these white people going into the cornfields?" he repeatedly inquired as if something sinister was going on.
When we got to the dead center of nowhere, a large man with a huge revolver stood to one side and used his Smith and Wesson as a pointer while he described the course. The whole crowd of three hundred runners would lean back and to one side and then the other as the .44 magnum with a ten-inch barrel pointed at us, then not at us, then at us again. The poor Black man looked like he was about to crap his pants. I'm sure he was thinking, I knew I shouldn't have come to Mississippi.
When our starter fired his gun to begin the race, it sounded like a World War II artillery piece going off. Everybody flinched and then began a slow jog down the dirt road towards the pavement of Tribbett. Then the starter said, "Y'all can run faster than that. Get off my place!" The whole crowd took off in a sprint. We made it to the pavement, and I looked back to see if the man with the gun was following us. When I didn't see him, I relaxed and tried to get my heart rate back down. My splits were
9:24
8:45
8:46
8:44
8:51
8:55
8:59
9:09
9:42
11:20
12:11
12:23
11:53
How do you spell crash and burn?
I got hot.
I got tired.
Those last miles were painful.
But I remember thinking, At least I'm getting a good workout. And Randy Beets never caught me, though I did look over my shoulder a time or two.
We finished that thing just like we started it: on a turnrow in a cornfield. I loved it. It was hot, primitive, unique. It's one of my all-time favorites already, and Forrest and I are coming back next year.
For the week, I
swam 12,600 meters
spent 132 minutes on the trainer
ran 27.03 miles
walked 3.92 miles and
lifted weights two times.
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