April 8: Scheduled – 7 km at marathon pace for this run, that is, around 4.7-4.8 min/km.
Actual – oooops!
Had planned to get out but catching up on all the items from past 10 days of being out of the country burned away the day and by time I realized that the sun was getting low, I adjusted the training plan by a day. It happens, conflicting priorities (is that a quasi-oxymoron?) and schedule conflicts means that every now and then you have to adjust accordingly. Friday was one of those times....
April 9: Scheduled – a “make-up” day for missed sessions hence the 7 km at marathon pace.
Actual – 7.7 km (4.8 miles) in 35min35sec.
Spent a good part of the day sorting out the garage and house as still in midst of moving stuff from Lisa’s townhouse that she sold, to store in my house that we’re going to rent out starting in the summer right after we move into the townhouse we bought. Confused because I certainly am; not about the moving stuff around but rather generally how it all seemed to happen. All good, just seems busy with everything else going on. One problem at a time out of the box I say and by 5pm we had enough room in the garage to park the car and still be able to get out. Another problem solved!
Moving boxes and furniture must be some type of warm-up as once I headed off for run, I felt rather good. Still not warm enough to run in shorts and t-shirt but hints of spring in the air lightened the step.
April 10: Scheduled – what, more rest? Perhaps some stretching.
Actual – rest, watching the ‘Masters’ on tv, shoveling snow piles into spring sunshine
After building up to so much mileage during the training plan, now comes the time when one starts to wonder if they’re doing enough to maintain their fitness level and be completely ready for the big race? The first few days of the taper are easy to enjoy but then a sense of almost mild panic (there again, another oxymoron?) or guilt sets in as it seems that one needs to be out there doing more, putting in miles on the feet. It does take a conscious effort to shift from movement obsession to a stage of ‘rest and recovery’. I’m working on it; this I could get really good at given time!
How bad did I feel for the lad from Northern Ireland? With laptop strangely enough perched on my lap, it was painful to watch Rory McIlroy succumb to the unfathomable pressure of playing on the biggest golf stage in the world and “swallow the giant olive” (choke is such a harsh term). That’s what makes sport so compelling though as it’s played out in front of your eyes with numerous lessons to be learned, from the “joy of victory to the agony of defeat”. The Masters this year had tons of drama, enough to keep me inside for a couple of hours on the nicest day so far this year in Calgary. Of course, once emails under control and I could resist the urge to get outside no longer, it was outside for an hour or so to shovel snow out from the shadows and into the places where the sunshine falls; no, not to try and hurry the spring thaw along but rather to prevent the melt water from heading to my neighbours backyard and into her basement. And how good does it get, later that day it was the men’s World Curling Championships where the lads from Manitoba defended Canada’s curling pride by winning yet another world title!
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