beset

There's a scene in Jaws where Roy Scheider is sitting on the beach watching the kids play in the water when one of these young-uns meets an untimely demise. Roy's holy shit! response is captured by what is known in the industry as a dolly zoom. Roy's head stays the same size in the frame but the background seems to rapidly recede from the camera in a weirdly disorienting way. It's an effective technique to convey an unsettling moment of realization.

And so it went yesterday as my foreground crept almost imperceptibly by while things in the distance seemed to get much, much farther away. This "moment" lasted 2 hours and 44 minutes - a 16.75 mile run during which, when I wasn't muttering or thinking an unbroken stream of obscenities, I was gasping and wincing in pain as I staggered along at a not-so-blistering 9:49 pace.

Usually when I start my long runs I'm pretty chipper for the first 6, 7, or 8 - maybe 10 miles. Yesterday for some reason I felt like I had already run 10 when I got to mile 1. It didn't help that I took a wrong turn at mile 4 and ended up 3/4 of a mile off route before I was able to yank my head out of my already pain-stricken ass and get back on track. By the time I got to my turnaround point, which was in the middle of Dockweiler Beach with the jumbo jets taking off immediately overhead, I was seriously thinking about stopping. I turned north and could see the Santa Monica pier - my destination - teenytiny and shimmering in the great distance. I just hadn't felt this kind of torture before and it was very discouraging. For those of you who want to experience the thrills of marathon training in the comfort of your living room here's an exercise you can try: take a step, then drop a brick on your foot. Now take another step and drop a brick on that foot, too. In between steps stick a fork into the back of your neck and into both hips. Repeat for 2 hours and 44 minutes.

It was unsettling just how much agony I was inflicting on myself. But despite the negative things I was saying along the way e.g. (expletives deleted), why am I doing this?, there's no possible way I'll be able to finish, I absolutely hate this, etc., I guess my moment of realization came when, despite the incessant cussing and limping and whining, I finally did indeed make it to the finish line.

Interesting Sight o' the Day: This guy.

Runs for the week:
Tuesday: 4.5 miles (with stairs)
Wednesday: 4.5 miles (with stairs)
Friday: 7.5 miles (with stairs), 1:05:43
Sunday: 16.75 miles, 2:44:22

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