Debajo Dos: Paul addresses the critics and doubters of his world record attempt
They say there are five stages of grieving, and by my own accounts that theory checks out. I’ve entered my fifth week of serious world record training and I am only now realizing that I’ve been in a spell of complete denial.
I’ve denied that the human body simply cannot run 1:59.99 for 800 meters.
WELL GUESS WHAT ASS-HOLE? I’ve moved on to the period of anger.
Anger at physics, physiology, and every bile-spewing e-troll who’s tried to remind me of that fact. To paraphrase my favorite boxer, Rocky Balboa, “Don’t tell a bug it can’t fly just because it don’t got wings. Look at all them flyin’ bugs out there.”
Monday, March 6th
Desperately needing some R&R (rest & relaxation) after a weekend of fast-paced R&R (rock ‘n’ roll) livin’ I listened to my exhausted body and just jogged four miles with Jeanne.
Tuesday, March 7th
To avoid developing a muscular imbalance while running with my iPhone, I decided to take this puppy to the treadmill, where my motivational playlists won’t throw off my balance, and will encourage, as intended. While listening to Van Halen’s “Jump” at ¼-speed, I did a three mile tempo (5:30, 5:30, 5:00), dry-heaved for some time and then did six strides on the track outside.
Wednesday, March 8th:
Presumably still mentally incapacitated from yesterday’s effort, I know I jogged with my friend Tommy, but don’t remember much else. (Runner’s Amnesia again, FML.)
Thursday, March 9th:
Not bad, not bad. The weather was unseasonably warm, and I inhaled a ton of dust, only compounding the oxygen-depletion benefits of my altitudal living arrangement.
Friday, March 10th:
Slept in my spikes last night, because I wanted to acclimate my feet to the rigors they’d be facing on the track. Consulted with my random number generator, but re-vamped my workout on the fly: 600m (1:41), 400m (1:03), 200m (:28), 200m (:29), 400m (:59). Panted for half an hour after.
Saturday, March 11th:
I may not have been able to walk, but I was able to jog. Three miles on the day AND NO DAYS OFF.
Sunday, March 12th:
A day off.
Things are heating up.
And that’s good, because my time trial was originally slated for April 20th, but has since been shifted up a week due to unforeseen travel needs coming up. Better call the airlines, because sub-two or not, they’re gonna have to ship me to Nashville in a body bag.
This is the sixth post in a series by Paul chronicling his journey to break the two-minute barrier in the 800 meters. Check out his previous post below: