I’m pooped.  Plum tuckered out.  Draggin’ my wagon. 

Fifteen miles through the countryside on my favorite lollipop route never used to seem so exhausting.   But after 7 hard miles yesterday, I guess it was sort of like 22.  That’s a lot. 
I’m beginning to notice a change in my legs on the long slow distance – in the control of them – due to the more vigorous training schedule.  I can power them up or down with my mind to change my pace, and it doesn’t seem to affect the rest of my body too much – sort of like shifting gently into another gear in the car.  Eventually I feel it in my lungs if I push too much, and I’m starting to recognize my race pace by feel instead of cheating by glancing at my Garmin. 
So it’s good, I think.  I’m pushing my body very hard, but it’s responding by giving back to me what I’ll need to (hopefully) qualify for Boston.  It’s starting to understand the new “zones” and perform accordingly.  But god, it still seems like an impossible thing to keep the fire burning at that intensity for 26.2.  Trust the training, they say. 
I passed several sets of cyclists who seemed happy to be on the road again after such nasty weather.  Waves, smiles… we’re sort of in the same club. 
A set of seven or eight souped-up cars with their show-off engines often roam the area on the weekend.  I’ve seen them several times, in different locations that are miles away from each other.  I guess they recognize me by now, because I was greeted by everyone in the parade today – twice. 
I probably ran further than they drove. 
I focused on my run, grooved to my music, concentrated on my fuel, and kept an eye on my pace.  My new “slow” is my old “fast.”  I thought about sex, work, working out, racing, and writing, not necessarily in that order, and sex definitely came up more than once.  I really miss touching and being touched, I decided.
I finished strong, though, despite my weariness, and now it’s time to run some errands with my kids that I promised, so that should help stretch out my legs a bit. 
I’m almost halfway there.  It’s going to get painful from here on out, but this is something I’ve set my mind to do, and so I will press on.

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