What do you mean easy days?

track run

“These are hard,” Spongebunny said breathless.

“Only three more, you’re halfway.” I smiled and kept pushing the six minute pace.

Running is never easy, right? Wrong. Many beginning and experienced runners run too hard on their easy run days. Each of your runs should serve a specific purpose. Running too hard on easy days compromises your ability to benefit from your quality workouts.

Easy run means run at a pace where you can hold a conversation of about three sentences at a time with another runner. The goal of an easy run is to keep your muscles loose and to work on your aerobic system. You are increasing the efficiency of blood flow to your lungs, heart, and blood vessels.  You are teaching your body to metabolize and uptake oxygen faster and more efficiently.

Anaerobic on the other hand increases your power, strength, and speed. This is what you are doing when you run hills and speed work. Running hard is expected and desired. Push to your body to its limit and then do one more.

“This will get easier right?” Spongebunny asked.

I laughed. “Yes, but then you just add more repetitions.”

“Why are we doing this?”

“If you want to get faster, you have to train to run fast. Teach your body what it can do,” I said, my breathing regaining the slow rhythm of the recovery lap.

“So, I should be running all my runs harder?”

I shook my head back and forth. “Nope. Respect the easy days. The reason I can put up numbers like 7:00 minute miles for a six miles after swimming and cycling, is because I respect my easy days. If I push hard on all of my runs, my body cannot recover and the quality of my hill training and speed work will seriously decline.”

My easy days are done at whatever pace my body needs. Most days that is a 9-930 minute per mile pace. But, some days it is a 10-10:30 pace and that’s okay. In fact, it’s great because it reminds me that I need my easy days. I don’t worry about the pace of the run, I focus on how I feel during the run. There should be no burning muscles or lungs. No wheezing or gulping air and definitely no vomiting.

Respecting the easy days, allows you to be at the top of your game on the hard days. This really applies to all aspects of life work, parenting, and socializing. Life is full of ups and downs. Enjoy those recovery days because you’re going to have to dig deep sometimes sooner than you realize.

 

Innocence

courthouse

Men in black and grey suits stood on the street corner across from the stone white courthouse checking their phones and watches. Rays of sunlight streaming over the peaks of the mountains ricocheted off the curved glass windows. The walk light blinked on. The dong of the clock tower sounded 8:45 am. I stepped off the curb tugging my rolling briefcase behind me.  It rumbled across the red brick crosswalk. My hand tightens around the handle as I step over the train rails and pull my briefcase across.

A few steps from the curb, a boy and girl hand in hand rounded the corner. A smile tickled the corner of my mouth and erupted in my eyes. So young. So innocent. To me, they are perfect and out of place.  They weren’t be more than fourteen years old.

His brown hair was short with a rounded neckline.  He wore a light blue button down short sleeve shirt with flecks of sea green, untucked from his khaki shorts that hung below his knees.  My smile widened to impossible depths when I noticed he was wearing almond dress shoes with black laces, no socks.

She wore a white short-sleeved dress decorated with crimson poppies that hung just below her knees.  Her brown hair swept past her shoulders and fluttered at her elbows. She had rouge on her cheeks and light blue eye shadow, makeup that was wrapped in pink princess wrapping paper for her birthday.

Despite it being late summer, both are pale skinned without any tan lines. Not sickly pale, but pale as innocence, one who has not been burned by the world passing around them.  Christmas morning fills their expressions as they glance around and at one another.

It’s a full court calendar this morning, a parade of what goes wrong in children’s lives drugs, violence, poverty, and worse. I watch the two cross the road away from white stone of the courthouse.  Locking their image away safe in my mind, I drag my case files up the ramp to the revolving door. I lift my briefcase up on the conveyer belt to go through security.

People in front of me set off the security sensors, but I don’t. I’ve been through it too many times. Nodding to the police officers, I set my briefcase on the floor and pull out the handle to its full length. It clicks out a familiar rhythm as I cross the marble tiled floor to the stairs.

I lean to the left to offset the weight of the briefcase as I climb the stairs to the second floor.

A Vigil for Justice: Episode One

Blue River Town

A Vigil for Justice, is a serial thriller fiction novel. Updates of 1,000-1,500 words will be posted every Friday.

“Who would you kill?” asked Sam, reading the front page of the Denver Post over her sister’s shoulder.

“No one Sam, and neither will you. Go get your stuff, we’re going to be late,” Melanie said. She pushed the chair back and downed the rest of her orange juice.

“This is insanity,” she whispered setting the newspaper on the breakfast table. She picked up her backpack and shoved her three ring binders inside. How could a law like this pass? Maybe we should just stay home today.  She checked the front pocket of her backpack for her favorite pencil and pen, seeing them safe inside, she tugged the zipper closed. Their smoky cat with blue eyes curled around her leg meowing.

Melanie looked at his food dish. Empty. She sighed and walked to the pantry. Reaching into the bag, she grabbed a handful of the tiny fish shaped pieces and dumped them into Austen’s bowl.

Samantha bounced down the stairs on tiptoe, sandy braids bouncing on her shoulders, and a Hello Kitty purse slung over her shoulder.

“You ready?” Melanie asked grabbing their lunches out of the fridge.

“Yep. I would put a pencil in Byron’s eye,” Sam said.

Melanie shot her a death glare. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t a joke.”

“He pulls my hair and steals my crayons. Yesterday—”

“Enough.”

Sam twisted her finger in the end of her braid.  “I have a field trip today.”

Melanie cringed on the inside, sending her eight-year-old sister to school on a day like today was bad, but out in public could be life shattering for both of them.

“Really, where are you going?”

“The Museum of Natural History.”

“That will be interesting.” She smiled at her sister.

Melanie pulled the maroon front door of the house shut and checked the lock. Dew clung to her sneakers as she crossed the lawn to her car parked against the curb. She glanced both ways down the street and walked a full circle around the car peering through the windows before clicking the unlock button on her key. God, she was already paranoid as it was. She preferred the term hyper-vigilant, but her friends called her paranoid, only half joking.

She drove the familiar route to Upper Blue Elementary her mind wriggling with the possibilities of the future in their small Colorado town.

“Have a great day at the museum. Mom will pick you up from Ballet at five,” Melanie called as Sam pushed the door of the car closed.

She pulled into the parking lot of Summit High School. Mitchel was sitting in his green pickup truck waiting for her like he did every morning. She put her car in park and turned the engine off. As she stepped out, Mitchel got out of his truck. He was a year old her than her, a senior. His cologne pulled her in before his arms even had a hold of her. The tension left her shoulders with his embrace. She hadn’t even noticed it before. Tension being a normal sensation was definitely something she had to work on.

He kissed her and brushed her long walnut hair back from her face. “Good morning, Mel.”

She breathed him in and rested her head against his chest. Holly clobbered them from the side, her copper curls descending on them like octopus tenticles. All three of them crashed into Mel’s car.

“Did you see the paper?” she asked.

“Totally fine here,” Melanie said smiling as she righted herself from her best friend’s impact. Holly was as intense as her fiery hair and emerald eyes.

Mitchel wrapped his arm around Melanie’s shoulder. She fit perfectly against his body.

“See what?” he asked.

“That crazy Justice Law passed, the one about the killing three people during your lifetime without repercussions.” Her eyes were wild with the implications.

“No way,” he said.

“Yeah, I saw it too,” Melanie said as Mitchel snatched the paper out of Holly’s hands bumping Melanie’s head with his bicep.

“Sorry,” he said. His brown eyes scanned the headline and moved down the page.

“Christ all mighty,” he said.

“Nothing will change here. Blue River is too small, and everyone knows everyone,” Mitchel said, taking Melanie’s hand in his.

“Maybe.” Melanie turned to face her car. The lights flashed and horn chirped.

The three of them crossed the parking lot and entered the school. The first bell rang. Mitchel kissed Melanie again.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

Melanie nodded. He began to turn away, but then he tipped her chin up and snuck in one last kiss before she turned down the hall where her and Holly’s locker was. Wonder if mom saw the article before she left for work this morning. Melanie’s phone vibrated in her back pocket.

She pulled it out. It was a text from her mom. Passing students bumped and jostled her as she stared down at her phone. Holly looped her arm through Melanie’s and guided her down the hall as she responded to her mom.

“We’ll talk tonight. Sam remember her permission slip?”

“Not sure,” Melanie text

“Alright, have a good day.”

Melanie smiled and slipped the phone back into her pocket. She turned the lock to the locker, left, right, left, and lifted the latch.

“You have chemistry, right?” she asked Holly and handed her the textbook.

“Same as every other B day,” Holly said smiling. “I’ll catch you at lunch.” Melanie nodded and pulled out her calculus book. She pressed her hand against the cold metal locker door, and it clicked shut. Mitchel’s right nothing will change here. Blue River is quiet. There’s not much crime to talk about, and the big cities are a ways off.

“You seen Mitch?” Melanie jumped, ripped from her self-soothing thoughts.  Mitchel’s brother, Seth was staring at her, eyebrows raised, and looking from one of her eyes to the other.

“You okay?” he asked.

“What? I’m fine,” she stammered. Seth was Mitchel’s twin. They were identical, but Seth was a few inches shorter and had bleached his dark hair, turning it orange.

“He just went to class.”

“Cool, see ya.”

The second bell rang just as she walked through the door to class. She slid her backpack off her shoulders and onto the floor as she sank into a desk at the back of the room. She had to focus. She pushed the chaotic possibilities that seeped into her mind aside for now. With her binder flipped open on her desk, she dug in her backpack for her pencil.

She wrote the date on the top line of the page, May 3, 2021, and drew the number three in the corner, outlining it, blocking it, and adding various designs as Mr. Baker went over the assignment.