Tuesday treadhills

Today felt good. Good because it didn't particularly. Good because it felt a bit like the sort of thing I used to do, on designated workout days: Just make up hard shit as I went along. Nothing specific, because, to steal from Canova, I'm not at all in a "specific phase". (Also, for all of my interest in scientific training, I cannot stick to anything.) I am, rather, trying to build everything at once. Which is foolish, in some ways. Many ways, perhaps. But it felt good to not feel good, to inflict various modes of discomfort on myself, just because.

On a treadmill, because it was 107 out, and I'm not quite that stupid (with the numbers covered up, because I wanted to adjust the speed totally by feel): First, one hour, starting easy, moving towards a higher end aerobic effort in the last 15 minutes. Then 10 x 1 minute treadhills, with one minute rest. Then 10 x 30 second treadhills, with 30 seconds rest. Then 30 minutes on the stationary bike, "hard".

Then, sitting on the trunk of my car, drenched, drinking sparkling mineral water and watching the fireflies.

This last part, I think, is crucial. Post workout bliss is better, in some ways - maybe even many ways - than fitness. (Not health though. I think I've somewhat learned that.) Perhaps that makes me more of an enthusiastic exerciser than a runner who trains deliberately? Don't suppose that would be the worst thing, which is good, because I suspect it may be the case.

Still, in the meantime, I do have some shit I want to get done. A sub 1:20 half would be lovely, but I'm wildly out of running shape at the moment. So anything under 1:25 would be a more realistic goal, probably. (I'm stupid enough to think 1:19:59, however.) To that end, I plan on purchasing - or obtaining for free - something resembling a half marathon training plan once we get 12 weeks out from November 2. Short hard hills are cool, probably my favorite thing to do, but have nothing really to do with a flat road half marathon. Specificity matters, to such an extent that I might stop fucking around for a bit.