Thursday is “Suck Day”, meaning that it’s Fartlek Day.
I eased off a tad last week with my workouts because I was beginning to feel a little run down (both the fartlek and tempo runs did not go quite so well as they have in the past) but I’m going to give it another go this afternoon since I’ll inevitably be giving my runs a total relax next week while I travel to San Antonio.
I’m culling out another Desert Island album this afternoon because, hey, even if the run doesn’t go so well as least the tunes will be awesome. And that album is the ‘Eat a Peach‘ album by the Allman Brothers.
This album was released in the year of my birth (1972) making it a real homage to the generation in which I was born and raised.
This particular album has seen me through numerous car trips, and even more all night benders; it’s one of the great quintessential “guy albums” of all time.
And today….I’m running to it.
The times they sure be a-changin’.
At the time, many in the band were struggling, with heroin addictions, and checked themselves into rehab. It’s miraculous then to think that the album was even completed in the first place. Then shortly after leaving rehab, group leader and founder Duane Allman was killed in a motorcycle accident in the band’s home of Macon, Georgia thus making it the final album to feature the guitarist.
Interestingly enough, the albums name came from something Duane said in an interview shortly before his death. When asked what he was doing to help the revolution, Duane replied, “There ain’t no revolution, its evolution, but every time I’m in Georgia I eat a peach for peace.”
‘Eat a Peach’ was a mix of studio recordings—both with and without Duane Allman – and recordings from the band’s famed 1971 Fillmore East performances. The album contains the extended, half-hour-long ‘Mountain Jam‘ which pretty much took up the entire brunt of the 12k worth of [5 x (2 minutes hard / 3 minutes easy), 10 x (30 seconds HARD / 30 seconds easy jog)] intervals. But, shit, how do you not love anything with a 33 minute cover of a Donovan tune?
“First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain then there is.”’
I mean, is it there or isn’t it?
That’s some pretty deep shit to be contemplating when your heart rate is pushing into the RED zone, believe me.
And then there’s this:
“’The lock upon my garden gate’s a snail, that’s what it is.”
Yeah, man, like I said…deep shit.
I know it’s an instrumental version, but, still…
However, there is also ‘One Way Out’ which has to be just about the coolest tune, like, EVER. How can you not just want to beat your chest, down half a bottle of whiskey and raise cane until sunrise? Okay, well, maybe just the ‘beat your chest’ thing since I’m getting a little old for those kinds of shenanigans. Either way, it still rips and lent itself to a pretty decent start to the first and second interval before the whole ‘Mountain‘-madness thing happened.
Beyond those two epic songs, there’s vocalists’ Gregg Allman’s performance of his brother’s favorite song, ‘Melissa‘, plus Dickey Betts’ ‘Blue Sky‘, which became a radio staple; not to mention providing an awesome ambiance for a little recovery jog at the end (note: while the sky was decidedly grey at the beginning of the run, the clouds did part revealing a gorgeous blue sky just moments before this song. How’s that for serendipity?).
Anyway the run went pretty well I must say. Certainly better than last Tuesday’s run (or Thursday’s for that matter) anyway. My legs felt in good form, my cardio felt good and, yeah, everythinn just clicked. Maybe it was the complete absence of wind in either direction, the easy(ish) week I had last week, or that ‘ol Thunder n’ Lightning seem to respond well the day after a circuit training or plyometric routine. Maybe it was the epic groove of ‘Mountain Jam’ itself which was pretty awesome for establishing a decent quick foot turn over (cadence) to. Who knows? But it went well and I am pleased.
On the downside, I did have to contend with the same van of teenage schmucks along Thunder Bay Rd. that I did a few weeks ago (click HERE).
So, again, to them I say:
Haters gonna hate.