APB out on my fast-twitch muscles

They are missing...

I can't believe they would up and desert me like that. I mean, I know my eyesight and hearing are mandated to leave me over time, but I am prepared for their departure. But I'm only 29 years old and last time I checked, I didn't have any weird grey hairs growing out of my ears and I don't wear these:

If you are wondering what is wrong with such a pair of shoes, then it is a waste of my time to explain it to you. But, being the nice guy that I am, here it is in brief...After the age of forty, a man's DNA changes drastically and as a result, a few things go to the way side. The most important of these is his ability to detect crucial fashion faux pas. It's sad, really, seeing so many good men make such destructive decisions. Unfortunately, major corporations have taken notice to this evolutionary quirk and being evil, they exploit it. Why do you think the world has fanny packs? 

Yeah, I know, I know, it is hard to digest when you first accept the truth. Have a seat, get some water, take a deep breath - the world can be a harsh place. Just count your lucky stars you found this blog, and me, to guide you through the destructive mine fields of bad fashion.

Anywho, sorry for the tangent (you can thank me later). Where was I...middle age...bad DNA, decisions...fanny packs and comfortable white, mid-cut cross training shoes with seven different width selections...OH YEAH!

Got it - They are missing. Up and left me, didn't even leave a note. Just vanished in the night without me even noticing. They are probably in Santa Fe by this point, heading for the border, looking for cheap booze and bad decisions. What are missing, you ask? My fast-twitch muscles, of course.

Obvi; gosh...

I discovered they were missing while attempting a speed workout yesterday on the track near my apartment. It being in Dorchester, I had to shimmy through a fence, and then another, to get to it. Trespassing? Yes, but all in the name of a good cause so it's OK. 

Write that down.

I didn't have any real expectations for this workout...OK, that's a lie, I thought I would be able to at least resemble, even if by the narrowest of margins, a sliver of my old track self. Shoot, I even broke out the dusty spikes that had been sitting in my trunk. Mind you, I haven't run many times on the track since I went and had this done:

Yeah, that would be my left ankle post reconstructive surgery. My favorite part is the staple you can clearly see at the top of the incision that is directly IN the wound itself. Sweet aim, doc. Anyway, putting the spikes on, I wondered if I could still hold my own. I mean, I wasn't a super star or anything, but I could run a 22 second 200, high jump around 6'7", long jump in the high 22's, and split a 49 and change in the 400. With that said, I also realized that running distance had an averse effect on leg speed and turn over, A.K.A. fast-twitch muscles.

BUMP THAT.

How about running distance makes fast-twitch muscles run for the hills, leaving no signs of anything other than tears and terrible split times.

Four 2oo's at 100%, a joke of a workout back in the day but all I could handle at the present time. I was shooting for 25-second splits for the first two and then 27's for the final two. Not fast by any stretch, but good enough to get my legs moving again.

Dear Brian, 

We no longer love you because you neglected us. We are leaving you, have fun trying to get through your workout with out us. 

Talk to you never,

F-twitch

Yep, pretty much sums it up. Here is the carnage:

Splits:

1) 27.5 seconds, thinking I was going too fast as it felt like I was going ALL out. Dismayed by the time, I rested to recovery and tried again.

2) 28 seconds. OK, what the...I was pushing with everything I had, legs looking like someone cut my hamstrings, arms doing some new-aged dance move. I started to get the picture...

3) 30 seconds. Laugh, go ahead. I know, I could jog that in my sleep too...or so I thought. I swear, I was pressing with absolutely everything I had in me. No dice, the mighty Brian struck out.

4) To make myself feel even worse, I ended with a 30.5, a split I would have run if I was injured, intoxicated, with a bag over my head...wearing flip flops. 

So, speed work. Yeaaaaaaaaaaah. Apparently I need to do a bit more of it. Thank the Lord I didn't do the 4x400's I planned on...

Until next time, if you see my fast twitch muscles, send them to:

Brian Hetzel

P.O. Box What the F

Slowville, MA 021ihateeverything

Thanks,

B