I agree with Daniels that weight makes a big difference however we are "built" differently and where an East African from Kenya or Ethiopia might be 5'6" and 115 lbs another runner from some place else in the world might be the same height but 125-130. I can't imagine Prefontaine finally deciding he needed to be 120 lbs at 5'9" to compete with today's African runners. He might have gone back down to 140 (mnaybe) but that would be it. Some of this is the cards we're dealt. At 140 I often thopught about dropping weight but after a year at 135 I found that my times did not improve so I went back up.

Raider

I didn't run today.   We went to a funeral service for my wife's cousin, Elsa, which took most of the day.  Elsa came to family dinner at Mama's house on Christmas Eve.  There were about 30 people. Elsa made congri (black beans and rice) and tamales to go with the roast suckling pig, as she always does, and as always people volunteered to take home leftovers.  She was in good spirits and happy all evening.  Back at home she woke up with a headache and about 5am suffered a massive stroke.  She passed away early in the morning on the 26^th.

I guess I should explain a little about my wife's family.  She was born in Cuba where her family owned and operated a coffee business.  It was a good business: everyone went to college, they all had summer homes and life was pleasant.   When Castro came into power he confiscated their business and their possessions and life wasn't as pleasant.  Mama and Papa were allowed to leave the country with the clothes they were wearing and their two small children (my wife was 4 and her brother was 2 years old).  They were taken to the airport in the dark of night and put on a plane to Spain.  Eventually they made their way to the US.

Over the years many of the family came to US, including Pacquin, who is a cousin on Mama's side.  The transition from capitalist to communist society was difficult for many people.   Pacquin, like many people, hid family valuables rather than giving them to the government.  His girlfriend reported him to the police.  The girlfriend was allowed to finish her college education.  She eventually became a physician and emigrated to Spain.   Pacquin was placed in prison as a political prisoner and his possessions were confiscated.

Years later he was deported to the US in the initial Mariel boatlift.

Pacquin married Elsa shortly after arriving in the US.   Perhaps the years in prison affected his judgment.  It is clear that his family was disappointed in his choice.  Elsa was always a center of attention at parties.  She was loud, witty, vulgar, and entertaining.  She told bawdy jokes that people would repeat in whispers for weeks afterward.  She said out loud things that everyone was thinking but no one would say, and the crowd would laugh until tears came.  She thought Pacquin was a hot hunk and demanded sex from him often until she died at age 70.

Interestingly, Pacquin never stopped being in love with the girlfriend who turned him over to the police.  Some years after arriving in the US he located the woman and started corresponding with her.   It was an open secret that he planned to leave Elsa in the spring of 2008 and go to Spain to be with the former girlfriend.  One of the family conversations is about how her sudden death conveniently avoided what was sure to be a loud and ugly scene when Pacquin told Elsa he was leaving her.  In the end, Elsa had the last joke and the family is gossiping one last time.  Sometime recently she took Pacquin's passport and hid it.  Pacquin is a Cuban citizen and he can't go back to get another passport. 

ptbrown - agree with Joe ...that's a story!

Joe - I hope that everyone comes together on one 50+ site.  I really enjoy it when you "old timers" get together and talk "running".  Btw - nice 'take it easy' 12-miler in 1:26 today ... gotta laugh - "felt like a jog".  That'd be a hugh PR for me!

Have a great evening! 

PJ

You are good story teller, ptbrown. If you can hold my attention that long (and you did) you are good.

My feeling on the weight is that if none of it is extra baggage then you are at a good weight. When I graduated from high school I weighed 155 and didn't have an ounce of fat on me. Fourteen years later, just before I started running, I was 170 with at least 30 lbs of flab. Without doing anything diet wise I got down to 138 a year later, which is the lighest I've ever been since I started running. I'm quite sure that last 7-8 lbs was loss of muscle mass. I'd lost most of the explosiveness I had as a basketball player in high school. When I did my best running about 10 years later I was usually in 143-145 range. Now I'm 140 but have less muscle than I did in my 40's.

Friday - 7 miles on grass loop at 8:50 pace. Still sore around groin area, even after 5 easy days.

Saturday - 8 miles on track at 8:25. Much better than yesterday. Rained a lot here in last 24 hrs.

Haven't run yet.  Just logged in to ONCE AGAIN select the command to stop the emails.  Spareribs

Sunday

Two very hard efforts this week, and today I was burnt.

I went with a 62 year old guy for the first mile, and then let him go.

70 minutes slow @ 29F.