outrunning yourself - session #4

I don't know if going out to run 2 days in a row at my beginners level is smart or not, but that is what I did this morning. At least I did not go out with the running club last night! I was tempted, but I think next week might be my first group run.

So I went out this morning on the Dolev route again. I did pretty good on my pace. I was running more than walking - probably to the pace of 3.5:1.5 (in favor of running). I was feeling good.

Then I hit about the halfway mark of Nahal Kishon. I was on pace to finish the route maybe 10 minutes earlier than previously, but my legs died. I could not run anymore. I had to fast-walk the rest of the way. I had a couple of short runing bursts, but I pretty much walked the rest of the way.

I think I overran earlier and I had used it all up.

I guess I should start a list of lessons learned - Lesson #1: Don't outpace yourself. You will pay for it later. Take it easy and go the distance.

Seems like an important lesson.

Nobody else was out running on the road this morning. I saw some kids finishing an exciting night of hanging out and getting drunk, and I saw a Hassidic father with his son lugging some small luggage, like they were going on a day trip. The father kind of eyed me suspiciously as we passed each other. Maybe because I was dressed like a runner but walking like a girl.

Also, running around the nieghborhood in the dark and in the silence of pre-dawn allows one to hear the sounds of the nieghborhood thathe normally misses. The gemara says the sun makes so much noise during the day that one cannot hear other things, but by night those sounds can be heard.

I don't know if it is the sun itself making the noise, or just all the noise that is made by the sun rising - the cars on the road, the construction workers, the stores, the people, the radios blaring, etc. Either way, before the sun comes up you hear all sorts of noises you just don't hear by day. Such as; the cackling of the high power lines, the scurrying of some sort of animal in the bushes, the chirping, and the silence of your own thoughts.