Andy Barton Blog

This week’s been a little chaotic, folks. A good friend decided to get married a thousand miles away, 10 days after Mardi Gras, and to involve me in the wedding (can’t we just rent tuxedo t-shirts? people like those, right?). Also, no doubt in hopes of bolstering my spirit of Lenten penitence, my professors have provided the sort of workload that might have sent ol’ St. Aug himself running from the literary world, and back to the wondrous, wanton sin of women and pears [this will most likely be the last time I send you to this website].

So, ya know what, why don’t you sit back and enjoy some basically meaningless raw data.

My past two weeks (2/12-2/15) have looked like this:

Mileage: 128.9

Average Pace: 6:23 (this includes two miles of tempo randomly thrown in to 10-miler)

Daily Pre-run Workout: 200 push-ups (two sets of 40-10-20-20-10) with 2:00 plank after each set; 20 dips.

Tuesday (2/14) Speed:

3.25 mile warm-up; 4 x (200 on/200 off), 2 x (400 on/400 off), 800, 2 x (400/400), 4 x (200/200); 2 mile cool-down

Tempo (2/22): 10 minutes hard (1.9 miles; 5:16 pace) during 10-miler.

Longest run: 15.02

Mardi Gras Day: 12.82

What I thought about over most of these miles: Depressing songs in minor keys to listen to upon arriving at home.

Recovery Food: Frosted Mini-Wheats with Chocolate Milk (Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.)

Best Thing Yelled at Me While Running: “Fuck you” — Sean Fitzwilliam.

Also, new shoes! (Prepare yourself for sexiness below).

May cause violent seizures in chronic heel-strikers

Many reviews exist online, but I’ll add my ten cents-worth:

Your current pair of trainers is a Toyota Camry with child-locked rear doors.

These are an F-16 with some cocaine in the glove compartment. You now want to go very fast and destroy things.

Video (!!): Here’s some inspiration for those of you who like televisual imagery better than words. The commentary sets it up perfectly for you.