6 Miles + the Doyler Dash 5K

At last beginning to get over our mutual 3-week cold virus (and quickly running out of the assortment of prescribed goodies), my beloved and I suddenly realized that the Covered Bridges Half Marathon was looming--and we were again in the position of needing to cram.

Last week's attempt at 8 miles turned into a hacking, wheezing 4--though on the mend, we found ourselves simply coughing too much to attempt the second of the two four-mile loops we'd planned to do.

This weekend we were determined to achieve a scheduled training run--at at 8:00 a.m., we dutifully began running from our house. Our plan? To aim for Fresh Pond, and shamble around the lake, before heading in to Harvard Square. Since I had my fuel belt, there was no need to worry--we had all the water and Gu we needed, for the first leg of the run--and the last--the Tommy Doyler Dash, a 5K race from one Tommy Doyle's Irish Pub to the other (with funds going to breast cancer research). Our total distance would end up the pre-requisite 9 training miles, and we'd have the added perk of the last 3 being a bit more fun, and followed by a free Irish breakfast--and cold beer.

When we got to Harvard Square, we had about half hour to kill (good, since I was feeling lazy--typical for the summer months), and agreed that after 6 miles, we should just run easy. With 30 seconds to gun-time, however, Jared looked at me with a smile and said, "Want to run this?" I couldn't help but agree...and we were off. While I can't say that we were our fastest (we weren't) or that we didn't stop (we did--twice), we still managed a highly respective 8:20/mile pace--not bad after having cruised out 6 miles already. Good enough to make me forget I looked somewhat like an idiot--cruising along in a 5K with a fuel belt on.

Afterwards we were rewarded with the aforementioned full Irish breakfast--complete with eggs, black and white pudding, Irish bacon, homefries, bagels, french toast, fruit, and coffee. Having consumed most of the deliciousness by the time we thought to grab our free beers, we lamented over the chill air on our sweaty selves, and the lack of travel mugs to take our beers to go. (The thought of leaving them never crossed our minds, of course.)

Luckily a stroke of genius hit, and 10 minutes later, we were on the T on the way home...happily drinking Sam Adams out of my hardy fuel belt bottles.

Who says you can't have your cake, and eat it, too?