NOTE: I'm writing a newspaper series about turning 70-years-old and trying for a first place in the L.A. Marathon.
Below is an account of a 21-mile-work out, semi disaster.
WEDNESDAY LONG DISTANCE WORK-OUT
All I can say is that I hung on.
Wednesday I ran 21 miles.
Naturally, it was the hottest day of the so-called winter.
How do I expect to run a 4 hour, 24 minute marathon or anything close if I can’t pick up my feet when I’m on the asphalt? 4:24 is a ten-minute pace.
I told the world or at least the newspaper-reading community I was going to get a first place in the LA Marathon which is about 8 weeks away.
As I said, I hung on Wednesday.
At mile 19, I stumbled into a restaurant and asked for water. Stood there gasping and gulping ice water until the lady at the counter asked, "ARE YOU OK?
“I just ran 19 miles and I’m tired,” I told her and left before she called paramedics.
The good thing is that I wasn’t tired or sore the next day.
I am faster in races than in work-outs, but how can I even think of being 3 minutes a mile faster for 26 long tedious miles?
I’m probably going to embarrass myself.
Flunk out, come in at 6 hours and reveal the little old lady 70-year-old I really am.