I am no sprinter. Heck, i am barely a runner. But I like to sprint. It is fun. I like to see my legs pumping out in front of me, feel the wind moving across my balding head, and to feel my legs cramp up in rebellion against the sudden demands. Well. They have, in the past. Not so much now.
Last evening I blitz-kleaned the floors at home and then set out for my run. During the last half hour at home I drank a Vanilla #GenUCAN shake mixed with soy milk and ate a chocolate chip cookie. Yes. I did. I grabbed some water, Teri, and off we ran.
As you can see, the first part was down a big, long hill. I hate that hill. Very unsafe. No real shoulder, blind corners, fast drivers. But I survived. Nice quick climb up through a cemetary and onto the football field (flat spot). I ran 8x100yard sprints, walking back to the beginning after each sprint. There were times when i could feel my shoes slipping on the grass, which was interesting. It meant that I was pushing off harder than my shoes could grab. Cool.
The sprints, except for the last three, were 14 seconds. You can see one up there where i failed to push the button to start the timer. Duh. I am very ok with 14 second 100 yard sprints for a 42 year old slightly out of shape male. I am going to make it my bench mark for the season. This fall I'll do it again and see where I am.
Juneathon Day 7 'sorted'.