Who Cares?

It doesn’t happen all that often but, when it does you take hold and give it hell to the end. What am I talking about? It’s that workout that you just hit dead on for some reason. A spontaneous burst of fitness. You know what I mean, out on a long run and you check your mile split and find a 6:30 average then you just keep hammering but, it feels like an easy pace. Or that day where the wind seems like it’s at your back the entire ride. Or for me this morning during a 1000 yd warm-up with heavy sluggish arms but, still splitting 1:10’s with ease. I decide to go with it. Pick up the pace and turn this into a lactate threshold kind of day. My plan for this morning was to swim 8k straight. When I saw some hammerin’ potential I took it. Changed the workout into 7x1000 descend on 13:30 (about 1:15 rest) then take 250 to stretch it out and then use what’s left on a hard 500. Everything was under 12:20 with the last 1000 at 11:45 and each 100 was getting faster. Sure I was feeling it but, there was just something so serene and perfect. My body seemed as though I was in a vortex of rushing water compounded by the repetitive beating each arm took with every stroke. My tunnel vision was narrow. There was this icy rush of the blood being pulled from my skin into my muscles I entered a cyclic perfection. Into every turn my feet seemed bound perfectly at the ankles as I fled from the wall in 2 seconds of absolute silence. I can not help but, think those moments off the wall must be what flying feels like. My unity with the water was absolute and every movement was flawless. My shoulders were sore, I could feel every heartbeat in my eyes…all 170 per minute. I was being driven like an addict looking for a bigger fix. The more it hurt the more I wanted. Almost at any price. After each 1000 I stood there at the wall with my stomach and arms on fire. Heat was radiating off my chest and back and with the excitement of a kid on Christmas eve I watched…56…57…58…59…Flying. Call it a gift from the spirit of the chlorine underworld. Who knows? Lately I have been getting the piss beaten out me in the pool. It’s been a long time since I said I’d never swim again. Apparently clouded by some misconception that it was time to grow up and give up everything I knew as a kid, I was wrong. I even still have some of my GI Joes. Random. I know but , not really.
So in a world that so many people fueled by their own personal tank of narcissism blog everything about nothing to no one…I add some mindless rambling about a random swim set on an average wed. morning. Blah blah blah right?