Are We Having Fun Yet?

Last Thursday was the first time I stepped on the track to run since the marathon. I did three miles on the treadmill the week before, which was not only painful but discouraging, especially when my heart rate shot up faster for an eight-minute-per-mile pace than it would be for something, er, a little bit more relaxed. I lumbered through the two mile warm-up, as well as some easy striders, but had to shut it all down during the first 300-meter piece. Too much bang bang.
First thought was well, it definitely is not the right pair of shoes for running. So, I went to see the owner of my friendly neighborhood runninig emporium...got into a more-cushioned pair of shoes and went out for a quick trot on the sidewalk. Bang bang bang...still not good. After a brief, animated discussion, we figured out my issue is not just shoe-related, but biomechanical, reinforced by the wrong shoe. When an experienced (under three-hour) marathoner tells you he would not run a marathon in the shoes you used, that's not a good sign. Nothing like getting slapped around by a guy who you give a hundred bucks every couple of months, no?

Great fun over the past weekend. Nothing like sitting on your butt for five hours on the highway, followed by sitting on your butt for 20 hours in a college auditorium learning everything you ever wanted to know about track and field coaching but were afraid to ask. Oh, yeah, add another five-hour drive on the return. There are things I probably never will have to do as a coach...like teach someone how to pole vault. But, you never know, dude. It could happen. I guess if I were the king of track and field I would divide the level 1 course into the relevant areas (sprints, jumps, throws, endurance) like level 2 presently is. However, I guess if you look hard and long enough you can find common threads in all of the disciplines.

Yes, it was a weekend where there was not enough coffee and too much Taco Bell. After two meals there, and one in a Mexican restaurant (all right, I have to admit I would have gone to the Chinese joint further up the way in the strip mall but I couldn't find a parking spot close enough), all I wanted on the way home was something that didn't look like fast food. I chose the wrong exit on Interstate 10 to pull off for a bite to eat, though; of the four restaurants, three of them were fast food joints co-located with gas stations. The only stand-alone joint was a Waffle House kind of place. All right. At least I can get a cup of coffee and a ham-and-cheese omelet and be certain of its origin being somewhere else than a cardboard box.

I have a love-hate relationship with traveling, yet it has to be done if you want to compete outside of your own back yard or learn anything. Maybe someday I'll get it figured out, how to get the best of both worlds - staying comfortable and going places - while I expand my own horizons.