Training.
"I gotta do a tempo run at 70% of my max heart rate and not spike into level 2, or else it'll really hurt my speed workout on friday."
Some people really thrive on that shit, and that is totally cool. I know a lot of athletes who need a structured routine to help motivate them and stay focused on a daily basis. Respect to them. Can't do it.
If I woke up one morning in March and knew the rest of my workouts for the entire season were planned, I'd eat a bowl of cereal, and use mercury in place of milk.
Training.
I hate training.
I want everyday to be a spontaneous adventure, always with potential for something to go wrong. I know what needs to happen before race day, but until that month or so before, I want to wake up and be excited about what I could do on the given day.
Today I filled a pack with food, water, and running gear. Pulled on my bike shorts and a cutoff tee, and took off on the single-speed. Destination: anywhere I could lock up my bike and run trails all day.
90 minutes later, I'm humping my bike up a pitch in the sun. Sweat pouring off me while I "spin" at 10 rpm. The road kicks up again... and just like that, I'm walking my bike up a hill for the first time in 20 years. For 30 seconds, I am completely naked in the middle of the road while I change into my running gear. Bike shoes off, pavement hot on feet, running shorts on, shoes on, GO.
Now I'm running up a 20% grade with my pack swaying back and forth, bike handlebars wobbling, because my left arm is swinging for momentum, and my right hand is holding the bars.
At the top is a glorious field with a panorama of small mountains. Lakes Region to the southwest, far below.
I lock up my bike and start running.
4 hours later, I pop out of the woods, sunburned, dehydrated, and crazed with hunger. To my dismay, the store by the trailhead does not take cards, so I stagger across the field with a mouth full of cotton balls, unlock my bike, risk being caught for indecent exposure once again, and point my front wheel down the road I was forced to run up earlier.
Within 20 minutes, I'm buying gas station food and liquids as though the end of the world were going to happen any second.
I take them out to the bench, where the employees likely go for smoke breaks, scarf it all down, and revel in the mental images of the day:
Bridle-path style trails, rocky outcroppings with amazing lake views, isolated single-track amongst thick evergreens, bogs, and a grassy, seemingly never-ending descent back to civilization.
Train....no thanks.
I'd rather Adventure.
krp
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