Somewhere during the training of the last few years, I've lost my mind. That, or my sense of proportion. Today's schedule (and a bit of personal choice) made getting my daily swim completed challenging. Given the "day off," I decided to get a quick run in before dinner.
Twelve miles and a 100 minutes later, I got back home.
Now, that is admittedly a quick run. At an average pace of 8m 9s per mile without seriously pushing myself, this run is a far cry from the 10 minute mile pace of my first half marathon. That it was a spur of the moment thing is even more telling.
Prior to 2000, it took the requirements of being a sailor to get me to run more than 100 yards. In 2000, it took being diagnosed with sarcoidosis and a doctor's request to get me to run 1.5 miles. Today, I ran 12 miles on my day off. And honestly viewed it as a day off. Don't bother telling me. I know. It's twisted and wrong.
I know there's a lawyer or two out there. How about psychologists. I might need help. Too many more changes like that and I'll start seeing Dean Karnazes' 50 marathons in 50 days a perfectly understandable.