hair on fire

The day of jogging up the sprint worked well.  I ran the sprint like my hair was on fire.  All throughout, I was consciously pushing to the limit.  The only thing that slowed me, I thought, was the uneven nature of the pavement, the holes, the cracks, and the water puddles.  When I finished and looked at the time I said, “#$%$!”  I was truly thinking this might be the record breaker.  I could’ve ran a fraction faster at the start, I guess, because I looked down at the watch instead of accepting the time had started since I had heard the beep.  These thoughts even went through my head—why do I check things to make sure even when I know they are right?
I’ve decided to do 70 pull-ups every time I go running in the morning.  This should be easy because I do kind of a pyramid structure—start out with a few pull-ups, then increase, then decrease.  Then at the end, I can do however many I need to bring the total to 70.

Unaccustomed exertion

Last night, I joined an Ultimate Frisbee game.  Amazingly, it was the first I’ve played in several months.  So this morning, I was hurting.  I took it easy; my experience has taught me that a bit (or several months) of rest can do wonders.  The human body is an amazing healer.

distraction

I was feeling sluggish, thinking I would not run the sprint with vigor.  But when I began, I quickly came up to speed and flew along the broken pavement.  I finished with a time 2 seconds slower than last time.  As I ran, I saw a friend and his dog with his 5-month old twins in a stroller. Such a sighting is surely worth two seconds.  Just the trouble involved with recognizing a large wagon—that turned out to be the stroller—and then recognizing a friend, and the effort involved in saying ‘Hey” (even though I didn’t hear what I was saying—Shakira was screaming about African soccer in my ears) is plenty.  It took myself away from concentrating on moving the legs.
I saw the neighbor boy, 14-year-old Alexander, pulling up on his new high bar.  I wanted to try to throw my legs above the bar and to swing around. I first tried this move in 1992 in St. Petersburg when one of my students showed this maneuver.  At the beginning of the summer, I couldn’t do it, but by the end, I had improved my technique and strength to a sufficient degree that I was successful.  Today…again, success.  Oor-Rah!

Nearly a record

As I was flitting along the pavement, I considered that I felt taller.  The trees, fences, etc to my sides were blurring and my head was fixed, but moving—intense concentration.  I felt like my chest was pumped out.  I was totally giving it everything in my guts for the entire sprint.

a kip

20 pull-ups certainly doesn’t become easier…not yet, anyway.  The first 5 is practically not felt, the next five is tough, but 10-15 is a real slog.  I wish there was a way to simply punch a time clock and take myself to the second 10.  Fifteen and above are all an accomplishment.  For 25 years, I could never imagine doing 20 pull-ups.
In the past, I’ve tried to do 11 with the hands grasping the bar from the front, and then turning around to so more.  Now, I am doing all grasping the bar from the front with the hands facing away from the body.  This is the manner we were directed to do for the Navy.  For the last couple weeks, when I make an all-out attempt, I try to do 15 without stopping.  As it stands, I have been able to do at least 10 without even boosting myself.  A ‘boost’ is when I give myself a little wiggle to create momentum for the first few inches.  I’m just thinking now that I might give myself this little wiggle (that I need to do near the end at any rate) right from the beginning.  At college, there was a young man in our group who had been an enlisted Navy person.  Although the official rules stated that people were not supposed to use any momentum to ‘boost’ themselves, this dude said that everyone used a ‘kip’ as a helping hand.
I was a bit surprised by the length of the final sprint. I felt good…flitting over the pavement at the beginning and NOT feeling much of a letdown.
This is the day I will send off my passport.  After 12 days or so, I should have it back in hand with a Russian visa.  Woo-Hoo!

21!!!! Is it real?

Woo-Hoo!!  21!  I didn’t know that I would try today…putting it all out there.  My shoulder has been having spasms lately; I think since I have been doing significantly more pull-ups since I’ve been in Tirana, the muscles are a bit stressed.  I walked out to the school playground where there is a climbing structure with a horizontal ladder piece.  I think this thing has a certain name, but I have forgotten.  At any rate, I usually begin my run with 3 to 5 pull-ups here as I put my head in the gaps until my shoulders hit the crossbar.  Pull-ups in this position are a bit awkward.  I don’t know exactly when my chin is above the bar so I didn’t really want to make my attempt at 21 here.
I looked around the place and found a curved bar that was perfect for pull-ups—and began.  I did 15 without so much as a wiggle.  On the 20th I had to push a bit to get up above.  I paused to consider if I should attempt the 21st.  I’ve been thinking that I am seldom in the position of having DONE 20 pull-ups.  To stop and throw away those 20 would be a terrible shame.  I didn’t think terribly long at this point, but all that thinking was in my mind somewhere.  I decided I would try it.  I went above easily.  And the crowd with wild!  Not really.  I was the only one around, of course.  It was 6:15 am.  As I jogged away, I thought, “Did I really do it?  Did I count correctly?  Maybe I didn’t really do 21.”   I remembered the 15th, and the 18th, but did I really do 19?  I remembered 20, of course, but did I do No. 17?
Whatever, I take the same attitude as the midshipman who counted my pull-ups in 1985—I decided I wouldn’t worry because I could do it again.  And I will.
Maxim asked, “What is your goal now?”  He didn’t even let me savor the glory for a minute.
“Maybe I’ll try to do the final sprint in 45 seconds.”  Maybe.

flitting across the earth

The final sprint was great today.  As I have noticed in the past, if I want to have a decent time, I need to begin by lightly brushing the pavement.  I need to flit across the surface of the earth.  I also felt power at the end—not the crushing weariness of earlier sprints.  The pull-ups, however, are difficult.  I’m not sure if I will be able to accomplish 21 by Moscow.  The pipes here are thick—except for the one that is fastened into a tree.  This pipe, however, is short inches from the tree so I feel a bit claustrophobic as I exercise at this station.  I am keeping up the number of sets so I do not lose my stamina.  I’m thinking that I need to have a day or two of rest before I make another attempt at 21.  Another point is that the small diameter pipe in the tree is at the turn-around point of my morning route.  I will need to ride a bike there in order to be fresh when I attempt 21 pull-ups.  I can do that.