Technology is Overrated
Final exam week is here so it's been crucial lately to get out and run to clear the mind before long nights of knowledge absorption. My first exam today went well and it was a Monday so I figured it was time for some speed at the track. I couldn't remember the last time I really challenged myself on a track and figured now would be a good time. And what better thing to do before a hard workout than slap in the headphones and wrap that satellite watch round that forever white-bleached ring on my wrist and get after that rubbery loop?
When I got home from my first exam ready to get my workout in I found that my garmin was running low on its battery. Well, I knew this would be a track workout so I'd probably be ok without it. At least I'd have my music (something I've found myself relying on more and more lately). I was stepping down the stairs from my apartment pressing "play" on my shuffle, but my buds remained silent. For not the first time, it was malfunctioning. I didn't have time to fool with this so I tossed it on my sofa and left it. This was gonna be a doozy.
After a 1.2 mile warm up I started my 400's, the 6pm sun beating down on my face on the front stretch. The intervals passed but I was only making small dents in today's goal. This might be more challenging than I thought. It shouldn't've been but here I was, feeling almost less of a runner, or at the least, slower, without the sweet heavy metal beats I enjoy so much during laps and laps of same.
Patrons of the track who were there when I first arrived were now long gone. I was nearly half way done. The sun faded behind the trees to the west as I was making a little more progress. Some evening joggers had started trickling in, sticking around for 10, 20 minutes and left, back home to warm food, tv, a bed.
1:31, 1:31, 1:30, 1:28 my old school TIMEX read lap after lap. Not extremely quick but at least I was being consistent. I could at least be happy with that. And now, it seemed, something else I could be happy with: nothing separating my head from my body. Each footfall not an effort insulated by guitar rifts and quick drum beats, but an effort, a tough one at that by now, I could be fully involved with, fully appreciative of.
It was close to dark and I was close to done. 1:19, that final lap time read. That wasn't so bad. Yes, it was probably the farthest I'd ever gone on a track at one time but I was by myself, me and the run, all 25 uptempo 400's. Not a note in my ears save for the birds and the foot strikes on a red oval.
Sometimes I just need a reminder.
When I got home from my first exam ready to get my workout in I found that my garmin was running low on its battery. Well, I knew this would be a track workout so I'd probably be ok without it. At least I'd have my music (something I've found myself relying on more and more lately). I was stepping down the stairs from my apartment pressing "play" on my shuffle, but my buds remained silent. For not the first time, it was malfunctioning. I didn't have time to fool with this so I tossed it on my sofa and left it. This was gonna be a doozy.
After a 1.2 mile warm up I started my 400's, the 6pm sun beating down on my face on the front stretch. The intervals passed but I was only making small dents in today's goal. This might be more challenging than I thought. It shouldn't've been but here I was, feeling almost less of a runner, or at the least, slower, without the sweet heavy metal beats I enjoy so much during laps and laps of same.
Patrons of the track who were there when I first arrived were now long gone. I was nearly half way done. The sun faded behind the trees to the west as I was making a little more progress. Some evening joggers had started trickling in, sticking around for 10, 20 minutes and left, back home to warm food, tv, a bed.
1:31, 1:31, 1:30, 1:28 my old school TIMEX read lap after lap. Not extremely quick but at least I was being consistent. I could at least be happy with that. And now, it seemed, something else I could be happy with: nothing separating my head from my body. Each footfall not an effort insulated by guitar rifts and quick drum beats, but an effort, a tough one at that by now, I could be fully involved with, fully appreciative of.
It was close to dark and I was close to done. 1:19, that final lap time read. That wasn't so bad. Yes, it was probably the farthest I'd ever gone on a track at one time but I was by myself, me and the run, all 25 uptempo 400's. Not a note in my ears save for the birds and the foot strikes on a red oval.
Sometimes I just need a reminder.
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