Ten years ago we ran around the track, we ran up hills, we did sprints, and we ran long runs on the trails and up to Far West before sunrise in the summer. The coach was lousy. The workouts were fine, I suppose, and I trained harder than I ever had before (although as for that, I had one of my worst ever race times), but the coach was lousy, paying attention only to the elite runners and the women.
I don’t think this coach will be like that. As we stood there in the parking lot in the drizzle getting ready for our first training run, she had each of us introduce ourselves and tell the group how we’d celebrate finishing our next race. There were many wishes for beer and wine. There were several dreams of spa and massage. There was talk of pizza and cupcakes and big, juicy steaks. And of course, there was chocolate. My plan was for a “carb crawl”, suspending this low-carb diet and going on a binge. No, this coach won’t be like my last.
Some of the runners there already knew each other, and it’s clear that we all will by the time February rolls around. She is Jen. We are the Tonics. And this is obviously going to be a lot of fun.