More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Chris Lear
The second reason is I didn't want them to say, `I dedicate this to Chris and I ran like shit.' How would Reese have felt when he said he didn't fight [at Big 12's]? That's why we're definitely
not going to dedicate a season to somebody. We'll dedicate ourselves to keeping his memory with us forever."
...more
I'm gonna be rested, and, for the first time this season, I'm gonna be fired up!" Wetmore interjects sternly, "Adam, do your talking with your legs."
he is very cognizant that he is precariously balancing on the tightrope of good health-pushing
It is chilly enough to wear long sleeves, but everyone still does the workout in shorts.
He is a 10,000-meter runner, and he does not handle the lactic acid quite as well as the others. Ponce says afterwards, "Man, I got bootylock." Wetmore hears him and says, "Good thing you don't got a big booty; you would have died."
"Whatever I tell you Thursday, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, agree and smile, but don't do it. What I tell you today is the last rational advice I give you. Take what I say, along with your observations of the course, and formulate a plan byThursday or Friday, recognizing you'll be crazy Saturday and Sunday."
Everyone has trouble finding the pace early on, and Wetmore yells across the track at Ponce as he starts pulling away on the second 300. "Now you're on race pace, cruising, cruising, cruising, OSCAR!!!" He comes through two seconds fast. He can be forgiven since he was keying off of Goucher, who himself was three seconds fast. "That's 4:24 pace," Wetmore informs Goucher. "I hope you can run that"
"Now it's the middle of a race. You're
practicing your relaxation skills. Calm mind, you're just floating. Get a picture in your mind, make a movie in your mind."
"That's it, the hay's in the barn. The hay's in the barn!"
I just looked up the trash-talking sites on the Internet and found a large amount of idiot babble and over-excited track geeks proclaiming their love for various schools and individuals; a huge archive that only served to jump my heart rate about twenty beats per minute without teaching me anything about Monday's race. That's America, though. Over-analyzed and under-trained.
