Day 246

Last week — yes yes, in that horrible humid HEAT –– I went out to run some sprints on the track with Frank and Melissa.

For those of you who’ve trained on a composite surface track or played any sport on a turf field, it will come as no surprise that the track was 10 degrees hotter than the day. And the day was already 85 degrees. Which meant that at noon it was damn-near boiling.

Frank and Melissa ran 440s (dashing like mad around the track); 220s (dashing like mad around half the track) and 110s (sprinting like a bat out of hell for a very short distance on one side of the track). Frank is training for an over-50 lacrosse tournament in COLORADO (at 8,000 feet!) at the end of the month, and Melissa is training for walking around Prague drinking beer coffee in every coffee bar shop she can find. The only people on the field who were keeping up with them was a trim, fit college-age kid who – I swear to you — had wings tatooed on both his ankles. And I don’t think they were angel’s wings — I think they were fleet feet wings, as in those the god Hermes used when he was flapping around carrying messages from one god to another before Twitter rendered him obsolete.

I didn’t actually try to keep up with Frank and Melissa on their mad dashes around the track. But I did jog a few, sprint a few, and walk a few on my own. Which as it turns out is exactly how one might train to run-walk a half-marathon or even a full marathon.

If you’re interested, you  can read all about the method popularized by Olympic runner and Runner’s World contributor Jeff Galloway here. Or you can do what I did: go out to the track and run behind the crazy people who are sprinting until they can’t breath. Chances are, those nuts will be somehow related to me by blood or bretheren.

Frank and Melissa running...but not in the heat!

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