In the category of “lowered expectations”, I sort of raced this morning. Here’s the story. Two years ago, after the first achilles sabbatical, I was doing well, responding to the iontophoresis and PT. My boss asked me to run a competitive triathlon relay with him. I agreed, despite the fact that I knew I wouldn’t be in shape yet. After another friend from work obliterated everyone on the bike leg, I started well in the lead and ran 35:00 all by myself on a cartoonishly hilly course. We won by a ton.
Today I got the stick well behind the one guy that I was worried about – good, I really didn’t have the capacity to race. I’ve been running 5 miles per day, 4 or 5 times a week. I checked – it’s been a month since the last time I even ran 10 kilometers, especially on this sort of terrain. When my boss asked me again a few months ago, I told him not to expect anything better than 38:00. After getting strep three weeks ago (missing a full week) and feeling horrid in general, achilles included, I told him 39:00.
Well, I ran 38:03. My last two miles were my fastest, despite the hills. I was sort of tired, but not really.
Sigh.
Flat (or maybe “fair”) course same conditions and effort, I’m 37:00 easy. I had an extra minute of effort in there, 36:00, on two years worth of 22 mpw with no speed work.
Sigh.
At least you did it. You could have backed out and said, no. You are still better the most!
oops…i meant to say, you are still better THAN most.