I was sitting there, in my truck, watching the raindrops fall on my windshield, sliding slowly together like The Terminator reforming, picking up speed and rolling down the glass. I was hoping nobody was going to show, then I wouldn't have to run. I could just make a quick stop at the coffee shop and head back to my warm home, dry. The kids would just be waking up with sheet lines on their cheeks.
Then I see Chris.
I should have known, the last of the Saturday morning die-hards, wearing a rain jacket and looking around, ready to go, so I get out of the car and we start.
We picked a good time to start, the rain had slowed to a drizzle as we ran along the ocean, which was showing a different personality today, not the calm sun and tan and bathing suits of most San Diego days, but the angry white caps and wind and the bright grey of sun behind the clouds, breaking through and lighting patches of the green blue sea.
I wanted to do a progression run, starting real easy, then gradually increase the pace, finishing faster than I started. I can't do this and run with Chris. He is quite a bit faster than me, so I tried to keep up, run his pace, his warmup pace, for as long as I could hang. It turned out to be about 4.5 at around 7 min/mile pace, then turning around at the end of the campground, Chris asking if I minded if he picked it up the second half, me saying something stupid about how I needed a 4.5 mile cool down from the tempo run I just did and watching the maroon rain jacket getting smaller and smaller in the distance. I slowed for a mile or so, then picked up the pace again, not finishing faster than I started, but close, and really pushing it at the end of the run, back to the coffee shop and in from the rain that had started again.
I stumbled on a race called La Ultra today. It's a 222 km race in the Himalayas. It has to be one of the hardest endurance events out there with one of the sickest elevation profiles I have ever seen. There was one finisher last year. I'm not saying I'm going to do it anytime soon, but the seed has definitely been planted.
Then I see Chris.
I should have known, the last of the Saturday morning die-hards, wearing a rain jacket and looking around, ready to go, so I get out of the car and we start.
We picked a good time to start, the rain had slowed to a drizzle as we ran along the ocean, which was showing a different personality today, not the calm sun and tan and bathing suits of most San Diego days, but the angry white caps and wind and the bright grey of sun behind the clouds, breaking through and lighting patches of the green blue sea.
I wanted to do a progression run, starting real easy, then gradually increase the pace, finishing faster than I started. I can't do this and run with Chris. He is quite a bit faster than me, so I tried to keep up, run his pace, his warmup pace, for as long as I could hang. It turned out to be about 4.5 at around 7 min/mile pace, then turning around at the end of the campground, Chris asking if I minded if he picked it up the second half, me saying something stupid about how I needed a 4.5 mile cool down from the tempo run I just did and watching the maroon rain jacket getting smaller and smaller in the distance. I slowed for a mile or so, then picked up the pace again, not finishing faster than I started, but close, and really pushing it at the end of the run, back to the coffee shop and in from the rain that had started again.
I stumbled on a race called La Ultra today. It's a 222 km race in the Himalayas. It has to be one of the hardest endurance events out there with one of the sickest elevation profiles I have ever seen. There was one finisher last year. I'm not saying I'm going to do it anytime soon, but the seed has definitely been planted.
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| La Ultra compared to Leadville 100 and Everest Marathon |
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