Prometheus Bound


Saturday was the landmark event that will ensure my success at the Manchester City Marathon. The storied twenty miler, three weeks out.

I began it before the sun had risen, and was already 5 miles therein, as the sun broke the horizon.

I felt increasingly stronger as the run progressed, most notably around the 14-17 mile mark, when I become overjoyed. Running becomes effortless.

I followed yesterday’s twenty miler with a bath in the brook behind my house. It was 41 degrees upon submersion. Fifteen minutes in an arctic hell. Sometimes it makes you question your mental state.

Then pancakes and recovery and the like. Followed by some pool running, to assist in flushing out the metabolic waste. Which was concluded by a time in the hot-tub. Witness Anthony’s inner slacker.

Today, I woke up feeling quite fresh, despite a tightness behind my left knee. So I decided after 4 plus weeks out of the saddle, I needed to resurrect Prometheus.

Prometheus is a 57 inch, carbon-alloy, European engineered machine optimized for endurance warfare.

It sure was fun getting back in the saddle. Rode for about 14 miles, with a cadence at about 105 RPMs to ensure there was no pressure on connective tissue or the like.






This week is my first week of tapering. My first week of patience. And my first week of confidence. I know my body is at about 90%, and there are a few spots which I am seeking specialists for this week. But I figure 20 miles at an 8:30 pace doesn’t look to bad for a race three weeks out.

As I turned around at the 10 mile mark, as I rode down the highway, and as I ponder what manifestations will come to fruition this next week, I find myself where I always am at this time before races.

“At the end of another lost highway ”