Don't Be Fooled By The Taper

This time next week, with any luck, I'll be making my way through the marathon, running (using that term loosely) along many of the streets and paths I used to run as a college undergraduate. This weekend has been all about the fun of having Ironman training in the rearview mirror, and not worrying all that much about a certain little race that is out there in the future. I got to enjoy some of the fun of having this level of fitness and being reasonably well-rested.

My plan called for a wee little brick with a 3 hour ride and a 45 minute runoff on Saturday. The ride was just me and my tunes, going hard when a good song came on. When training for my first MS150, a three hour ride with rest stops would have found me in bed for the rest of the day. This year, three hours straight with some hard intervals, FOLLOWED by a run, was just good clean fun.

Then today, Coach T and I hit the run early this morning. Now, by her standards, it wasn't that fast. This is her standard, the Penn Relays:



By my standard, we were smoking. We ran the same course that took us 60 minutes last week in 55 minutes, and my average heartrate was about 10 bpm less. Every once in a while, I'd even surge a bit and make her reach into her bag of tricks and work (ever so slightly) to close down the gap. In the middle of the run, which was probably clocking along at about 8 min. pace or a little better, I jokingly said, "Yeah, this is my Ironman marathon pace."

Her response?

"Don't be fooled by the taper (old man)."

For.Real.

If I have one hope for this first Ironman, it is that I have the patience not to get in a hurry, and that I arrive at mile 18 of the marathon really ready to run.

For now, however, it was fun just to go out and let it fly. Sometimes, training really is recess.

Let.
It.
Fly.

And go play.