The alarm is silenced after a few painful seconds of beeping. It is 5am. The darkness blinds me. Every inch of my body resounds with the reverberation of the alarm, every cell clenched. The sheets hush my tension, the perfect weight against the chill in the air. My pillow softens under my head. I wonder for a moment how the bed can be so cruel? At night as I crawl in, the bed seems too hard, the sheets like rough paper and the pillow a rock. I spend so much of the night too hot or too cold only to awaken to the world's most perfect, comfortable cloud of a bed! Absolutely cruel.
Ahhh, the sweet joy of rolling over and falling back to sleep, cradled in the soft warm sheets.
Why didn't I get up? Because getting up at 5am is crazy! If I could I would sleep till 9am or 10am every day. Getting up at 5am to go running? I don't think so. No, that alarm was for Jesse.
Jess diligently rises with the buzzing. He heads out in the soft morning light to meet Scott, a new friend and one of the best track coaches out there. It just so happens he lives in Dixon. Jess runs 2 miles to their meeting spot, then runs sprints, intervals and various other disgusting exercises designed to make you puke. When the torture is over, he runs 2 miles home. Que "Rocky" theme music.
Jess finds me still in bed when he returns. He beams with excitement about his morning routine. I love his enthusiasm and commitment. His face weekly becoming more and more chiseled, a far cry from the rounded face of high school reunion photos currently circling Facebook.
Scott, while I have only spoken to him a few times, has become a big part of our family. He is there for most conversations, referenced to over the course of the day and there first thing in the morning. I can see I might need to get to know Scott better.
Jess' training will culminate in the "Deadman's Ultra" in Cuba this October. No, no, not THAT Cuba. Cuba, New Mexico. I believe Cuba consists of a couple small hotels, some dinosaur stuff (as you can imagine Denim is excited) and a grocery store. I know, your jealous that I am going and you are not right?
I have to say I am not happy about the name of this 53 mile race: "Deadman". I hope they are being funny. However, 53 miles over rough terrain might be just that, a deadman's race. I certainly hope not.
After his 10 hour race, we will celebrate in royal fashion! I think we will have to pull something very special from the cellar. Jess claims this will be his 1st and last 50 miler. I say never say never. Some how I foresee that with celebration wine spilling from his glass, he will say "Maybe a 100 miler next?"
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Nice! I need to be better with my interval/speed workouts.
ReplyDelete10 hours would be a great time for the Deadman and your first 50! Be careful- they are addicting!
Might see you guys there! My 100 was cancelled (changed RD/ownership) so I'm doing some local 50s and definitely thinking of signing up for DP50.