I hate bonking

Time 9am
Start place gym downtown
Weather conditions: 10 C breezy, overcast with intermittent showers.
Distance 20km
Path gym-Notre Dame-De La Montagne-Bridge-Irlandais-Pierre Dupuis-Pont De la Concorde-Tour de L'ile-Jacque Cartier-De Lorimier-De Maisoneuve-Papineau- 1.5 laps of Lafontaine park-Rachel-Olmstead until Peel exit-gym.
Time to completion: Bah... about 2:15:00


Objective: LSD run with heart rate less than 152bpm

What I ate: two bananas, no yogurt
How much sleep I had the night before: 7 hours
What I wore: Nike white run cap. Blue sugoi long sleeve, NB blue short. wright sock, White Asics Nimbus V

Preconditions: Just recovering from a cold. Intermittent runny nose as and dry cough. I need to remmeber to take cough syrup with expectorant to manage this for the next run.

I felt fine starting off. I considered the initial difficulty just part of my warmup process. The temperature was slightly cooler than I anticipated

For the first 10km the effort was consumerate with the heart rate that I was expecting. Following that, the winds picked up and everything starting to decompose. My posture, cadence (turnover) gait. Everything that I had taken as a given was put into question. I had to stop several times for walk breaks. *sigh* I hate gallow-wimping.

Upward drift brought the rate close to 160bpm. As soon as I would take a walk break, I could see the rate drop quickly but not below 130. I wasn't short of breath but I was running out of gas- fast.

I didn't break any water and I felt a viscous film forming on my lips. I fault myself for not having eaten that yogurt and not having brought a water supply with me.

Even as I type this, 2 hours later, after having transitioned properly (strech, shower, eat), fatigue has not left my body yet.

Thoughts during race: heat training is something I need to do.

Perspective

Having been bed ridden for the past two days, it came to no surprise that I lept at the chance to unwind with several good friends of mine. I needed to step out, if just for a moment, to regain my sanity. I did was not able to train in the last 48 hours at all. No hard nor soft of any kind. I had to forgo a race on Saturday along with my running and yoga today. I had to marshall all my strength to lay siege on this virus that incapcitated me. Even as I type this message, I am still suffering the lingering effects of this stubborn virus (stuffy nose and sporadic dry cough) that is even more stubborn than myself. Hmm... I can't think of a better well suited adversary for me.

Naturally, meeting up with, "the boys" was defnitely the distraction that I needed. No sympathy from them, no slack accorded to me for not being quick on the uptake. Gosh, it's times like these that you learn the true value of the simple things in life. They are worth their weight in gold.

Sunday is our, "male bonding" day. We eat, laugh, make fun of each other, eat, (did I already mention that one) and ... eat some more. Our travels brought us to a buffet near my home by the name of, "Casa Corfu" on Masson and 9th St. It had been a while since we've been to a buffet. In all fairness with Mike working at one, I saw no reason why we would ever find our way, during his off hours, there.

We ate aplenty and I grossed out Mike by bring back a plate of dessert with a glistening piece of chicken on the side. For Mike that total confuses him From a professional perspective waitresses at the buffet do not know whether to bring you your bill or not. Normally dessert signals the end of a meal so it's opportune for them to present the bill at that time. However the chicken throws everything off. From a personal perspective, the fact that I would munch on a piece of chicken and then take a nimble of my cake and ice cream really grossed Mike out. Too funny cuz Kev returned shortly with a piece of calimari that mysteriously appeared beside his cake and ice cream as well.

Mike and Kev took off for their final round at the dessert bar. As I was catching my breath after a third plate and feeling the effects of a glaze forming over my eyes, I noticed something that freaked me out.

It was a a girl wearing a pink summery dress sporting matching flip-flops. She must have been no more that 12-14 years of age and she was carrying two full plates back to her table. This child was obese. I had never seen anthing like that at all. Had she worn something that was long, dark coloured and loose, you would have been still able to discern how rotund she was. The fact that it was a tight pink summery dress just excentuated her rolls of fat bulging from her torse and pockets of fact bursting from her sandeled feet.

I was literally beside myself and would dare to liken my reaction to that of an allergic one. I was stuck somewhere between incredulity and being numb. How could something like this occur? Mike told me that about a fifth of his clientele would be deemed, "Heiffers" another third of the total would be fat. That means that at least 50% of total clientele are fat.

Once I calmed down, I realise why my reaction was as strong as it was. I must have been projecting thoughts of myself from once upon a yester-year when I saw that 12 year old child. I don't recall whether my condition was comparable to hers but the fact that I was able to break that cycle of child obesity and become the person who I am today made me want to do something about it.

I'm glad I don't go to buffets too often, regardless of how much you eat, it just leaves a bitter after taste when you leave.