Miami Miles (Eight Weeks to a Comeback): Week 8

I turn 35 this week and my body seems to have recognized this overnight. Suddenly (or so it seems to me), I am soft and pudgy. Since moving to Jamaica this summer I’ve added 2 minutes to my mile pace, gained 10 lbs and turned into that cruel irony - the Round Runner. Not good. Apparently I’ve been running my mouth more than my legs and the casual, short runs I’ve been putting in aren’t enough to offset the ackee and saltfish, boiled and fried dumplings, jerk chicken, banana chips, tamarind balls and Vodka Tings that have become my staples. I commit to getting back on track. I’ll run 15 miles this week.

Tuesday night: a slow 4 miles at Emancipation Park. Blown away by a 7-minute Hottie. Even slower 5k the following night. Thursday: a 10k that feels like 10 miles and takes 60 minutes. Friday: bliss comes in the form of a 2 mile twilight run at the Mona Dam. Lost in the view of the Blue Mountains, I forget to clock my time. I pledge to up my weekly mileage to 20.

The serene scene at the Dam is offset only by the attitude of the Security Guard, who greets me on arrival with a reassuring “Is this time of night you come fe run?” “Is it safe?” I counter. “Boy, me fret for you. Try your best run fast.”

Saturday night I party all night to celebrate my birthday. I dance so much I wake up with a sore hip. 35 sucks.