Monday, Aug. 18 - 10
Tuesday - AM 6, PM 8
Wednesday - 15
Thursday - 12
Friday - AM 13, PM 4
Saturday - 10 - Gettysburg Alumni Race 5k XC, 2nd, 16:29
Sunday - 17 with 12 miles in 1:10.05 (5:50 pace)
Total - 95
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Training Week
M - off (strained foot on Sunday run, took day off to be safe)
T - 8
W - 15
Th - AM 10 PM 6
F - 10
S - 13 - Asphalt track - 3.5 WU, 2 by 3 miles, 2 minute rest, 16:51, 17:00. A bad workout. Not hitting 5:30 pace. 3.5 CD
S - 18
Total - 80
Monday, August 11, 2008
Rage, rage
Lynn Reinalda passed away last week after an eight-month bout with brain cancer. (Http://workingrunner.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html)
We drove to New Jersey on Friday night, the day before the funeral. We hung out with friends, caught up, told old stories, drank a few beers, tried to stay positive.
On Saturday morning my mother dropped me off in Seabright. I ran 10 miles south on Ocean Ave. to see my dad compete in the Asbury Park 5k.
This is a route that conjures up the spirit of Dr. George Sheehan. It is a route that takes me back in time.
I passed through Monmouth Beach, with the seawall on my left. I passed by Max's Hotdogs and the Windmill, another Jersey-style fast food joint. There was Deal Casino, where I used to play in summer tennis tournaments on those baby shit brown clay courts and would lose to this short kid who would loop the ball with incredible topspin and even had to the gall to sport Gustavo Kuerten-style bright yellow shoes.
And, of course, there was Lake Takanassee in Long Branch, the sight of the 40-year old Monday night road racing series, four laps around the lake. They do a 1500 before the 5k; when I was 9 I did it in 6:05. More often, however, I would be down by the edge of the swamp trying to catch fish; that's probably where I was when my dad ran his P.R. of 16:12. The bearded, wiry Harry Nolan was dominating the scene, and old Sheehan, who always ran his guts out, would be moaning his way around the course - "Oh God, Oh God, oh God."
Mrs. Reinalda was a mother to all of us. I am so lucky to have some of her spirit inside of me and to count her son among my best friends. She stood for creativity, for individualism, for fun. Mom's eulogy evoked Dylan Thomas, although the way she put it was "Rage, rage against the darkness." While there is no way to understand something like this, I suppose the one thing that made dealing with this possible was to be with Rolf and to see that, yes, as tough as this is, he will in fact gather the strength to rage on.
M - 6, 4
T - 10
W - 15
Th - AM 2 WU, 8 by 800 in 2:30-34 with 400 jog for rest, 2 CD PM 5
F - 10
S - 10
S - 18
Total - 88
We drove to New Jersey on Friday night, the day before the funeral. We hung out with friends, caught up, told old stories, drank a few beers, tried to stay positive.
On Saturday morning my mother dropped me off in Seabright. I ran 10 miles south on Ocean Ave. to see my dad compete in the Asbury Park 5k.
This is a route that conjures up the spirit of Dr. George Sheehan. It is a route that takes me back in time.
I passed through Monmouth Beach, with the seawall on my left. I passed by Max's Hotdogs and the Windmill, another Jersey-style fast food joint. There was Deal Casino, where I used to play in summer tennis tournaments on those baby shit brown clay courts and would lose to this short kid who would loop the ball with incredible topspin and even had to the gall to sport Gustavo Kuerten-style bright yellow shoes.
And, of course, there was Lake Takanassee in Long Branch, the sight of the 40-year old Monday night road racing series, four laps around the lake. They do a 1500 before the 5k; when I was 9 I did it in 6:05. More often, however, I would be down by the edge of the swamp trying to catch fish; that's probably where I was when my dad ran his P.R. of 16:12. The bearded, wiry Harry Nolan was dominating the scene, and old Sheehan, who always ran his guts out, would be moaning his way around the course - "Oh God, Oh God, oh God."
Mrs. Reinalda was a mother to all of us. I am so lucky to have some of her spirit inside of me and to count her son among my best friends. She stood for creativity, for individualism, for fun. Mom's eulogy evoked Dylan Thomas, although the way she put it was "Rage, rage against the darkness." While there is no way to understand something like this, I suppose the one thing that made dealing with this possible was to be with Rolf and to see that, yes, as tough as this is, he will in fact gather the strength to rage on.
M - 6, 4
T - 10
W - 15
Th - AM 2 WU, 8 by 800 in 2:30-34 with 400 jog for rest, 2 CD PM 5
F - 10
S - 10
S - 18
Total - 88
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