I had a great run rep session yesterday; 1K reps along the Embarcadero with a couple of the guys from work. Its busy, and you have to dodge a few of those damned tourists (my god, they are everywhere, gawping at the bridge, or the piers, or riding their stupid rental bikes in a totally random manner) but its flat and that's a rare commodity round here. The plan was for 8 consistent threshold reps, but a bit of competition developed. Initially it was the traditional "not acknowledged" type but then Chris and I started to discuss the pace and how we were responding, and got a bit faster - you know how it goes. On the final rep, Chris said it, out loud: "wanna race?" Damned yankees; what could I do? I might record, at this point, that Chris is just over three decades younger than me, a fit young triathlete. So I knew it was going to be a bit tough. I got off to a good start but I could hear him behind me, step for step. I nudged the pace up; still heard the steps; nudge a bit more but I was redlining. Still heard the steps but I guessed he hadn't got much left either. I judged his pace from the earlier reps at about 4:10 per K. I was on 3:59 at this point, and then he came past. I didn't panic, but I was on the limit so if he went away, he'd do it. But he didn't. I held him at 3-4 metres and watched. I guessed that was pretty well all he had so I waited and then, with about 250m to go, went past him. Breathe easy, no glance, no rocking shoulders. And then, a kick. 10-20 metres, another kick, and he was as good as dead. It felt good. Those 30+ years might have taken the edge off my performance, but there's no substitute for experience! If you want to take me down, boy, you're going to have to get up pretty early!
Anyway, that's all well and good. The real plus point is that a fine young chap has been witnessing my haunted look as I survey what our US cousins regard as "tea". You just can't get a decent cup of tea round here. I bought some "English Tea" the other day but should have worked out that its heritage might be questionable when I noticed the Scottish Tartan packaging. Don't they know England and Scotland have a bit of history? English tea in tartan packaging - that's fight-starting material! So, this fine, upstanding young man bought me this:
