Slouching into training shape

Ain't as good as I once was, etc.

Rockin' Rockwoods is on 29 September. 53 km. Summer training. Hot and humid. No more endurance strength in the legs. No more endurance neurons in the head. Not fat as in adipose tissue, but fat as in out-of-shape motivation. No trail calluses. No trail ankles. No hill quads or gluts. Mortal.

Boo hoo, etc.

It doesn't bother me that much. I mean, I don't prefer it, but if we're going to start from junk, we're going to start from junk. Last Friday I decided to pile on my first 10+ mile run and first run up the Missouri river bluff in a few weeks or months, along with my first 35°C run of the year. Why not. Embrace the suck. No bueno. Gaze into the abyss. Mostly the same today, but on the 8.5-mile course, but no shake-walk on the last three-quarter mile. Some progress.

That's the trick with everything right? Compounding. Some progress. Some progress. Some progress.

Maintaining shape is nice. It's better than the alternative. But it's more fun to compete. I wish I had my California hill running shape here. That shape is gone, and those hills stayed back in Cali. That's the really hard part: not comparing myself to my 2012-2013 self. But I don't need 100 km shape or 100 mile shape in 2018. 53 km shape isn't that hard. It's there. I kept the pilot light running. Now add gas.

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