Fartlek Run (7.83k)

It’s been three weeks since I’ve attempted a serious fartlek run so I’m going to giv ‘er the ‘ol college effort today and see how it goes.  I might succeed and they’re a very good chance I’m going to fail.  What’s quite confident about is that it’s going to suck either way but I want to begin assessing my right calf and see where it lies on the recovery scale.  And I had better this done before the storm comes…so here goes  nothing.

My soundtrack for this afternoon’s run is the ‘Beautiful Future‘  album by Primal Scream.


Misdirection and sudden turns are Primal Scream’s raison d’être, as I’ve learned anyway.  Either I love ’em or I hate ’em.  Longtime fans know this full well and are armed against swift changes in fashion – but even so, the hazy, unformed ‘Beautiful Future‘ will likely seem like a smack upside the head after the retro-raunch of ‘Riot City Blues‘, let alone the densely coiled anarchic rock of their turn of the millennium pair of ‘XTRMNTR‘ and ‘Evil Heat‘.

Despite the presence of Josh Homme’s desert muscle, this isn’t a rock album, not really: it’s an odd fusion of Bobby Gillespie’s sugary C-86 beginnings and the pulsating colors of ‘Screamadelica‘, heavy in its rhythms and light in its melody.  Reduced to a mere description, ‘Beautiful Future‘ seems pretty intriguing, even enticing, but the album is a clumsy, ungainly Frankenstein, constructed out of pop that’s never quite hooky enough and beats that bob along on an endless 4/4 loop.  Unlike much post-millennial Scream, the best moments on the album are neither noisy (only ‘Necro Hex Blues‘, the song graced by Homme, really clicks) nor experimental (none of the dance cuts click) but rather the unexpected pop, whether it’s the bubblegum snap of the chorus of the title track, the sugar rush of ‘Can’t Go Back‘, or the gloriously dumb homage to Ringo Starr’s ‘Back Off Boogaloo‘  in ‘Zombie Man‘.  During these tracks, it’s possible to hear what the band were attempting to do with this album, but too often the album sacrifices simple sonic pleasures in favor of stylized meandering.

So did I love it or hate it?  Meh.  It was somewhere in between actually.  I didn’t hate it, but I’m not going to put it on repeat or anything any time soon either.

And how about the run?  Well, that pretty much sucked too.  My success was in that I managed to complete the first 5 x 2 minute hard intervals (7.83k).  ‘Ol Thunder n’ Lightning felt tired but I’m attributing that to the 3 minutes of squats I did this morning as part of my 28 Day Challenge (click HERE).  But shortly after that, it was a quick slippery shit show of a slide straight to the bottom when my right calf/shin pretty much stiffened up forcing me to hobble like a lame deer.  I could have kept running but I knew that would have be special kind of stupid.  So, instead, in a bot of a panic, I did what I have never done before…stuck out my thumb and shamefully hitched a ride home with my tail between my legs.

How.  Fucking.  Embarrassing.

So what the hell went so wrong around the 7k mark when all my other runs the past two weeks have been getting progressively better?  Well, the last time I truly suffered on one of these runs I was wearing these exact same shoes (ASICS GEL 3030-2).  Upon inspection of my Strava account upon getting home I see that they now have exactly 482.6 kilometers on them, give or take the treadmills sessions I’ve done over the past year or so, yeah, maybe this calf/shin issue is a by-product of that?

That and my being a dumbass of course.

So this Thursday – *knock on wood* – if I do manage to get out and run again I’m going to break out the new pair and see what difference that brings instead.  Not exactly the run I was hoping for today but, hopefully, there was a good lesson to be learned from all this and my new shoes will get me back on track once again.


About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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