Friday, February 25, 2005
A scary drive
|6.0 mi.||55:48 mins.||treadmill||9:18 mins./mi.|
Two months to go, and I'm on the home stretch. After a fast run on the treadmill last night, I was feeling good. The aches and pains that whined to me when I got up Thursday morning were history, replaced by the bouyant feeling of a good run and a satisfing dinner of Chinese leftovers.
Then this morning came. An assignment took me down the Big Sur coast, tracing the course of the Big Sur Marathon. Normally, a drive down to Big Sur on company time is something to be savored, especially when it's done on company time.
With each click of the odometer, I got more nervous. By the time I was 14 miles or so down the coast, I had nearly worked myself into a conniption. I arrived at the base of hurricane point, and though it was a cloudless day, the roadway itself seemed to stretch to heights that were hardly visibile. As I downshifted to make my ascent, I had a chilling wonder: If my normally nimble Subaru needs help climbing ths hill, than how will this not-so-nimble newspaper reporter make the 500-foot climb on race day, after running 10 miles AND THEN run 14 more treacherous clicks to Carmel.
I thought I was ready. I can run 18 miles. I look good in my spandex tights. I hardly chafe anymore. My nipples have permanent scabs on them. But after seeing the course again, I'm glad I still have two months to talk myself out of this, or at least run some more hills.