Today's work: Ignition coil on a Subaru, glow plug relay on a Ford pickup, diagnosed a bad fuel pump in a Dodge pickup that was towed to the shop over the weekend, move a few cars around from last week and dump a bunch of waste oil. In the afternoon, had Andy's Bronco towed into the shop. Diagnosed it and it needs: new battery cable ends and ground wire, a starter, fuel filter and fuel pump. Did the electrical, installed a starter and the fuel filter, and got the gas tank pulled. Finish it up tomorrow.
Drug my weary ass home and despite a tough weekend on my legs, decided to go for a short but hard run on the bike path to really blast my body and forget about work. But trying to run fast and icy sidewalks/roads just don't mix. All I think I really did was just frustrate myself, as I spent the run looking for icy spots and stepping around them and, therefore, losing my rhythm. Finished my sad little 3.6 mile loop in a pathetic 30:11, roughly an 8:20/mile pace. Not fast.
But the painful truth is, I'm comparing my performance now to what I was accomplishing almost 20 years ago and THERE IS NO COMPARISON. (Get over yourself, Randall. You've gotten older! It's OK!) I may have been young and fast, then, but now, I'm finally embracing real endurance. At 38, I may not be able to bust out a 4:54 mile, but I can run 50 miles! And, by Jove, I'll run 100 miles when I'm 40. (Eat that, young me.)
I remember how fast I could sprint as a young pup, but I also remember how I hated to run any distance. Times have changed, but I am pretty happy with my new found abilities.
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