Ruff

So the end of last week turned out to be a bust (sort of). No running, no cycling – Honest to God good excuses for all days, so I’m not going to get all weepy and introspective on you, at least not today. Saturday I’m not going to be defensive about blowing off, though right now for the life of me I can’t figure out why not. Sunday I probably should have run, but (1) We made it to church, early actually, and (2) I laid down lime and grass seed. Oh, yeah – my lovely wife took Saturday as a well-deserved Mental Health day, so I got to play daddy all day.

Sunday was a milestone in my oldest boy’s life. He turned 5 about a month ago, and for over a year, I’ve been pulling f’n teeth trying to get him to ride a sweet little BMX bike we picked up for him. He’s an overly cautious child (unlike the Baby, who is likely to end up stuck in a tree by the end of the summer – kid likes to climb and can already climb the slide, though he ends up going down headfirst unless someone’s there to set him straight) – takes after his Mother, which is not necessarily a bad thing considering my track record – and the little bit of wobbliness in a bike with training wheels scared the crap out of him.

Anyhow, I coaxed him onto the bike Sunday afternoon, dropped his brother in the jogging stroller, and headed up the street hoping to make something click. And click it did – Once we made it over a little hill by our house, I saw the light that sprockets and chains can bring, and the big anklebiter stopped riding the coaster break, and started to coast. Once I had to start jogging to keep up with him, the kid turned into a sadist, realizing “Hey, I can make daddy run!”. So the next half hour was intervals – he’d sprint on the flats and downhill, and I’d catch him and help him up the next hill. He was even starting to get into trying to grind up hills to keep me running, but he hasn’t figured out the whole standing on the pedals thing. Good times. Nate (the year old) got a kick out of it, too – not sure if it was the speed while the stroller was really cooking, or if it was just picking up on his big bro’s happiness, but he was giggling manically. Hmmm, possibly I should be scared of the baby. I should go ahead and log Sunday – it was a mile and a half, which is something.

We got the boy (Jake) some new sneaks, too, but he doesn’t need much encouragement to run.

Today was running with the “real” runners at the lab. 5 miles for me in about 41 minutes (not shabby for an overweight white boy), 5.4 for them in 40. The guys are great to run with – they’ll push, but would hang back if I asked. Instead, I pace with them until we approach the half-way point, then I drop off and head back to the beginning, trying to see if I can hold them off until we get back. Not sure what kind of run it is – I spend the first half at or above LT, and the second half slightly slower than “race pace”. It’s not quite a stress/recovery cycle like true intervals, it’s not entirely LSD (Long Slow Distance). But it’s good, since I get off my rump and push.