It’s time for some historical context. The 800 meters is an extremely dangerous event. I recently came into possession of some physicians’ textbooks from the 1950s, and it would seem by attempting to run as fast as I am for that sort of distance, I’m at risk for displacing my uterus. This revelation nearly put an end to my training, but after consulting with several local wellness experts, they all assured me that because of my sex, I don’t have to worry. That said, training this week was physically painful at times, and as we all know, pain is the body’s response to when it’s hurt; surely I’m doing lasting damage to my gristle, sinew, etc.

Monday, February 27th:

 

Like most things in life, running is as much mental as it is physical. Because of this, I purposefully waited until the late afternoon to run today, when snow was forecasted. Mission accomplished. This boy braved him some elements for about six miles and gained several toughness tokens in the process. Slipped a bit and my body feels awful.

Tuesday, February 28th:

 

Sometimes you have to treat yourself and since outdoors can be frightening, I stuck to the treadmill for today’s calisthenic session. Four by mile in around 5:25 with some jogging between. Was the sweatiest dumbass at the gym after.

Wednesday, March 1st:

Recovery was the name of the game. Jogged with my training advisor and dear friend Stephen for about half an hour and complained we were going too fast the whole time.

Thursday, March 2nd:

 

Due to my ailing legs, I almost didn’t jog today but heard a car drive by my house playing some late-career inspirational Eminem song about giving up pills or something. So, I managed to will my body out the door for some mileage

Friday, March 3rd:

 

Ran twice(!) today. The first was a five-miler inside of a large building with my girlfriend and primary training partner, Jeanne. The second took place five hours later after driving to Albuquerque. I jogged to a track, put on a pair of spiked shoes, then attempted to run a 600m as hard as I could. There’s still work to be done if any human is to ever run sub-two for the 800 meters, but my 1:32 showing was encouraging and validation that this insane quest might not be as impossible as physicists and human-movement pundits have often claimed.

"I'm too aerobic right now" – @DanielDingus #DebajoDos pic.twitter.com/DFYtqDfBWL

— scott olberding (@isthatsol) March 4, 2017

Saturday, March 4th:

Spent an enjoyable morning trotting around several city blocks in downtown Albuquerque with my pal Scott, before securing our journalist lanyards and covering some sort of CrossFit competition taking place inside the Albuquerque Convention Center.

Sunday, March 5th:

 

The week’s long run surpassed the eight mile threshold. I know my bones only have so many of these marathon efforts in them before they’re reduced to shards and spilled marrow, but training is about getting as close to that red line as possible, but not passing it.

This week was a meaty one. 44 miles total, with a treadmill aerobic session that was so moist, noisey and presumably impressive that other gym goers stopped and stared, and a time trial to gauge present fitness. I’ve yet to secure a major corporate sponsor for my sub-2 attempt, which is absolutely baffling. If interested, please send an email to citiusmag@gmail.com.

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This is the fifth 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:

Introducing Debajo Dos and one boy’s quest to run fast as heck

Inside Paul’s first week of training

Paul has an acute gout flare up scare

Paul’s biggest week of mileage yet

Paul suffers from Runner’s Amnesia in New York