Archive for September, 2011


September 5, 2011

My coach, Mike, told me to do 5 mile repeats tomorrow at a 6 minute pace with 90 seconds between them.

I worry about this (of course I always worry about track workouts).

Five years ago I could run a 10K at 6 minute pace. Now, I can’t. I doubt I could run a 5K at that pace, probably 6:05ish. I doubt if I can string five 6 minute miles together with just a 90 second rest.

Maybe on a track with lots of other people going the same pace. But I’ll be doing these alone and on the Wilcox. The Wilcox has rolling hills, sand traps, uneven footing. It’s not like running on a track, it’s much slower.

And there may be dogs loose.

Sheepherding dogs pay me little attention when I’m running at an 8 minute pace, but they get all excited when I go fast. They nip me. They try to make sure I stay with the rest of the flock (or at least the shepherd).

I don’t think I can do it. One probably and then I’ll get slower and slower…


5:53, 6:03, 6:02, 6:04, 6:11

Hunh. Not as bad as I expected. I didn’t fall apart until the last one. Maybe I’m just a worrywort. Maybe Mike knows what he’s doing.


No, madame, you smell; I stink.

September 3, 2011

I kicked a skunk this morning.

(I didn’t mean to).

It was very foggy, and at 5:30am very dark when I started out on my bike. My glasses fogged up fairly quickly, and refogged almost as soon as I wiped them clean. I go through Hope Ranch (a well known skunk hangout), and was heading down Roble toward the creek — by day, this is a pleasant stretch, live oaks overhead, a few wildflowers by the roadside, leading down to a tiny little stream. This morning visibility was nil.

Suddenly there was a skunk trundling on in front of me. Before I had time to react, something struck my foot. And then it was over. I held my breath for as long as I could, but there’s a limit to that. When I did breath, I didn’t smell anything, and was greatly relieved.

But when I came to a stop sign… I did smell skunk.

At the first stop sign, I hoped… maybe… there’d been a skunk around it… but at the next stop sign the same scent arose, and I knew my foot (at least) had been skunked.

When I reached the meeting point for the workout, I got off the bike and crouched down. Yup, the smell was pretty strong. So I hung back from everyone else, and went off and warmed up by myself.

A half an hour later I did not smell anything and began to hope that the scent had faded. No one complained when I ran with my group.

But when I got back to my bike several hours later I found the the scent was there, not on my shoe.

Looking back, I wonder why I was convinced the scent would be on me rather than on the bike… perhaps I just fear the worst.

By noon the scent has faded from the bike too. (Thank goodness)

Up the airy mountains
Down the rushy Glen,
We dare not go a-biking
For fear of little skunks.