All aboard the big metal priest

I am heading down to Richmond for the alumni race on the Amtrak train shortly, which I dub the "big metal priest," because Amtrak just molests me every time I get on board.

It is supposedly a few degrees cooler in Richmond, and I could use that.

Wednesday's workout went about as well as I expected. The heat affected me more in the recovery miles and it was over pretty quickly. I went through the first (easy) mile in 6:00, just as I did two weeks prior, but I was already hurting. I started the first hard mile with very crisp form, which belied the hot, humid air. I ran the first one in 5:08, and felt solid, but the recovery didn't feel like much of one. I continued to heat up, and ran 6:35 for the mile.

I planned to chase Murph and Mike on the second one, but was dangerously close to catching them within the first quarter mile, so I dropped back and

came after them again in the second half, but I wasn't accelerating like I could earlier in the mile. I finished and took a long time grabbing water, and a few minutes into a very slow fifth mile, I decided to cut the intervals in half and run half miles. I turned around and had at it, but something was wrong. I was running well, ending up with a 2:32, but I had no friggin clue where I was. It had gotten dark, and all I knew was that the trail ahead was clear. I finished it and just chilled out with Dan and Jimmy (who quit his job at the Discovery Channel a week before that day's hostage taking). I knew going in it wasn't going to be an ideal workout, so I didn't assign much import to the results. I got a good first mile in, at least.

I got home at 10:30, and it took me a long time to fall asleep, so I wasn't up for a medium long run in the morning. I did five miles on a Greenwich-reverse Fisherman's, then came home and ran out to Vienna on the W&OD (at 6:40 pace, I learned, after the fact), then came home on Gallows Road. In 13 miles, I lost 11 pounds. Yikes.

Friday morning, I ran a miserable 6.5 miles on a Pimmit Hills loop. 7:45 pace. I sleep horribly.

I am going to do a small-town marathon with my high school buddies Evan, Nate and Pokey in the next few years, and I am looking forward to it, mostly to the relaxed atmosphere and chance to chill out. This is maybe two years down the road, when we're all 30.

When I arrive in Richmond I will shake the trip out with a 5.5 mile run around campus, then hopefully some Mary Angela's pizza with the guys. I'm staying with Lauder and Molz, definitely Fatty Z, and I assume Hunter, Garrett, and I'm not sure who else. I think there are either seven guests or seven people total. Then, I'll get my first race in since the Run for Roch. It's odd that I didn't race at all in August, but I did the best month of training in my life, so missing a few 5ks doesn't bother me that much. I'm excited to race with a few of my college teammates, even though we won't be slaughtered by the immensely talented, young and well-trained Richmond top seven. Then, breakfast at the dining hall, an afternoon run, and a party at the Hannays.