As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program a few weeks months ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong right.
With the advent of the new school year at SLA, a new term is also beginning for my grad program as well. This means a new course, a new “Academic Specialist” and new material.
They’re small, but the signs thus far point to the idea that Course 2 will be a different experience than Course 1.
I’ve received two e-mails thus far from Academic Specialist 2.
The first was a general welcome greeting us and talking about the University’s move from WebCT to BlackBoard:
See what AS2 did there? That’s right, admitted her own learning in front of us. I actually felt a little better about the move because of this e-mail, and I wasn’t even feeling timorous about the whole thing. (Truth be told, I’m no fan of monopolies, but moving around in BlackBoard is, so far, much better than moving around in WebCT).
Looking at the e-mail again, I realize it’s exactly the kind of thing Harry Wong would support. For the first few years of teaching, I returned to The First Days of School just before the start of the year each year. Even this year, I’ll probably skim through it. I’ve read it enough to surmise that AS2 has at least a passing familiarity with Wong’s “7 things kids want to know on the first day of school.”
Turns out, they are the things I want to know.
The second and longer of the two e-mails from AS2 truly worked to set the tone for the class.
and:
and, finally:
Did you catch that?
Throw out everything from the last class? Check.
No need to find the book, all you need for learning style is available through a web search? Check.
Facilitator, research practitioner working daily in schools, open lines of communication, using the web when it makes sense - in two e-mails, we’re miles ahead of the last course.
Hi, you’re doing it right.
As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program a few weeks ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong.
I’m a reflective guy.
Seriously.
I journal. I blog. I seek peer advice. I seek learner advice. I even took a job teaching at a school where reflection is one of the core values.
If I were any more reflective, people would wear me whilst biking at night.
When I looked at my last few assignments for this first grad school class, and saw they were all about reflections, I was, in a word, giddy.
Then, I read the assignment descriptions.
For the assignment titled “Course Reflection,” here’s what was asked for:
The purpose of the Course Reflection is to give you the opportunity to reflect on what you have learned in a specific instructional block and how this knowledge relates to the core propositions. The reflection is written in narrative form with all the conventions of English language. It is a personal document you are willing to share with others.
The reflection summary has distinct sections in which you provide different information. The first section is a reflection on how you applied the most important topic/issues presented in the instructional block.
The second part is a reflection on your personal growth. The emphasis should be on application of knowledge you have experienced as a result of what you have learned in a particular block. This is the most personal part of the reflection. You might discuss application of knowledge to your classroom or a change in your philosophy.
The “core propositions” referred to in the first graf are the props set forth by the National Board. They drive our program. I kept waiting in the course for the chance to discuss and debate the propositions. If it’s what we’re working toward as the goal, we should, perhaps, think about them rather than accept them as though handed to us from the mount on stone tablets.
(No offense meant to the National Board. BTW, nice mount.)
As a reflective assignment, not bad. Really.
I mean, it was due a week before the end of the course, but I’m sure they didn’t really want us to reflect on the whole course.
The rubric was a little odd:
The course reflection exhibits clear, concise, thoughtful, and substantive evidence of the learner’s professional growth, with superior and insightful articulation of expectations or evidence of improved teaching and learning in the classroom.
Sounds good at the face value. My learning, though, wasn’t due to the content of the course or the teaching. The bulk of my learning took place in my thinking about the structure, delivery and pedagogy of the course itself. I’m a better teacher because I looked at the course as a case study.
Because of the tone set within the course, though, I couldn’t say as much. I said what they wanted to hear.
I’ve received no authentic sign that Educational Specialist was worried about my learning or teaching. Assigning work that asks questions about my learning and teaching, yes. Actually curious as to how to improve my practice, no.
You’d think one reflective assignment would be enough. Silly.
The last assignment of the course was a reflection on the learning surrounding the inquiry-based project we’ve been working on throughout the module.
A little sidenote on the project for those of you playing at home. The project is designed for the course when it’s taught during a school year and the learners in the course are, you know, teaching. For the summer session, we pretended. Not quite the same.
In the “Helpful Hints” doc we were given, ES stated:
Using the Reflective Self-Assessment section for each lesson plan, analyze more completely what might be successful and what might not, if and how you might accomplish your goals and objectives, and if you think your implementation plan will help you resolve your problem statement.
Some mental gymnastics there, no?
The guiding questions were a little silly as well:
- How were my goals and objectives met?
- What were my “aha!” moments and/or successes?
- What did not go well and/or was not as successful as I had hoped?
- What needs improvement?
- What would I do differently next time?
- What will I do again?
- What were the key concepts I learned?
- What did others see that I did not or could not and how will I use that
- intelligence to continue to refine and improve my teaching?
- What did I learn about my own teaching?
Number 5 was certainly the easiest: Next time, I would probably put all of this into practice rather than teaching it hypothetically.
Again, that’s not what I wrote. I wrote what they wanted to see.
One more thing about what they wanted to see.
In the second half of this second course reflection, we were asked for more references:
- Include a complete reference list of all the resources you used for the entire inquiry project.
- Follow the guidelines found in the most current edition of the American Psychological Association (APA) format and style manual. Please put the original 15 sources at the beginning of this section then add the additional sources after the 15 original sources.
- MINIMUM 22 sources. 15 sources from Assignment # 1 and 7 new sources. The 7 new sources should be 5 from our class material and 2 OTHER.
I don’t know why.
The part that positively made my head explode happened in the final bullet point. Seven more sources? I mean, I like prime numbers as much as anyone, but, why? For the final assignment of the course - a reflective piece - we’re to manifest 7 new references for work that was already done? What’s the reasoning for the 5-2 split? And adhere to APA style, but post the most recent sources at the bottom?
I’m not given to conjecture often, but my guess would be that this new ordering process is so ES can count sources. I mean, I’ll do it, but, why?
Reflective work from learners can provide some intensely rich feedback for the teaching of a course and any corrections that might need be made. We’ve actually read quite a bit about this as part of our studies in the course.
This isn’t effective reflection. Absent a safe and open learning environment, reflection has become another version of, “What does the teacher want to hear?”
Hi, you’re doing it wrong.
As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program a few weeks ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong.
I’m a pretty decent student.
Really.
I like to think. I like to participate. I love to learn.
Oh, and I get good grades.
One quarter in high school I got straight A’s. Otherwise, it was A’s and B’s. Still, not too shabby.
It’s been a while since I’ve been graded.
Turns out I’m perfect.
I really shouldn’t be.
Assignment #1, Parts 1-2-3 was my first attempt at the use of APA style. I’m pretty sure I got it wrong. At least I think I got it wrong a couple of places. I’m not entirely sure.
Here’s what Education Specialist had to say:
ES hit on each of the areas of the rubric. And…well, that’s it.
My favorite comment? “APA was used.”
You bet your sweet bippy it was. Used correctly? Who’s to say?
Well, at least I know how to improve it.
You see that place where ES questions my thinking and points me to places where I can improve in the future?
Yeah, me neither.
Probably just ran out of time.
Let’s take a look at another one. My Philosophy of Teaching. I worked quite thoughtfully on this one. It’s my statement of what I believe as a teacher. I edited it publicly as a google doc and revised more than most anything I’ve written lately.
ES says:
Ok. Note my ability to connect my philosophy of teaching to my learning is worth as much in the assignment as my ability to properly utilize writing conventions. Sure, those are the same things.
Again, no direct questioning or push back. That’s fine, because the assignment was shared with my peers in the course for discussion. Wait. No.
I’m torn on how I feel about the fact that two assignments sit turned in but ungraded.
I teach. I teach in a classroom with 32 learners in each section.
I get that grading in a timely manner can be a bear to say the least.
If the feedback were richer, though, I’d be more forgiving.
If the feedback pushed my learning, I’d be more forgiving.
Neither of those things is happening.
When I saw the score on Assignment #1, I shared it with the rest of the team in South Africa. “That’s great. Congratulations,” was the general sentiment.
While I’m not saying I’d like to have failed, I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about the 53/53.
I worked a long time on that assignment. I didn’t learn much of anything, save for APA style (I think).
In Making Learning Whole, David Perkins provides three types of feedback:
-
corrective: announces what’s wrong “Yes, but…”/”Good, but…”
-
conciliatory: vague, uninformative positive feedback
-
communicative: structured to ensure good communication 1) clarification, 2) appreciation, 3) concerns and suggestions
As a teacher, I’m going to be striving to live more in the world of communicative feedback this year.
I wish ES was doing the same.
Hi, you’re doing it wrong.
I don’t teach in the 17th century.
More pointedly, I don’t teach in a 17th century school. I never have.
About a week ago, this quotation from Don Tapscott got tweeted out from a webinar he was doing with Discovery Education Network:
We have the very best schools that 17th century tech can deliver.
Granted, I’m not aware of the context of the quotation.
But, that’s twitter - providing context-free snippets since 2007.
I’d really appreciate it if Tapscott would not say things like this. If he said more, I’d really appreciate it if other people didn’t push out pieces of thoughts.
It’s not that I don’t see the value in making generalizations about all members of a group. When has that ever gone wrong?
Science Leadership Academy is well beyond 17th-century tech.
Phoenix Academy, my previous school, was well beyond 17th-century tech.
Sarasota Middle School, my very first school, was well beyond 17th-century tech.
The counterargument is simple:
These three schools do not represent the norm.
I can’t agree with that. I’ve seen many schools across the country creating amazing content owned by learners.
Look at the work Karl is doing at Arapahoe High School is doing.
Look at the thinking Bud is doing at St. Vrain Valley School District is doing.
Look at the creating Ben is doing.
Look at the connecting Monika is doing.
Look at the pushing Dan is doing.
Look at the teaching Diana is doing.
So long as we continue to say our schools are failing, we’ll never notice success. The statement of failure is generally wrapped around the metric of standardized test scores. While they provide a snapshot of ability, I think we’re all on board the train of thought that recognizes they don’t provide a complete understanding of learners’ understandings and abilities.
Stop asking what’s wrong. Start asking what’s right.
My follow-up question is this. How much tech does it take to push a school into the post-modern age?
Don’t worry about answering, I’ve done some figuring. The official answer:
Three netbooks, one digital projector and a class set of T1-83s.
Aside from avoiding generalizations, we should, perhaps, start to move our thinking to the globalized approach folks have been hoping their kids would adopt.
It might give some perspective.
Schools without electricity in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa are operating without any tech to speak of because the ups and downs of a generator would likely damage any equipment in which they invested.
Schools on the shores of Lake Victoria in Kenya have graveyards of second-hand monitors donated by well-meaning businesses. The monitors don’t work, and the schools can’t afford to have them properly disposed of.
When Tapscott makes this assertion, and again, I don’t have context, and others re-tweet, perhaps a little humility and perspective are in order.
We’re on the way to building amazing temples of ideas across the world. The teachers mentioned above and countless others I’ve met are working to make learning what it can be. More to the point, they’re meeting with tremendous success.
They’re doing it without racing anywhere.
Those schools without electricity in South Africa, they’re about to harness the power of mobile technologies.
Those schools with the monitor graveyard in Kenya, turns out you only need a handful of working computers to connect to the world.
I’m not certain I’m teaching to the full extent of what 21st-century tech can deliver - 2099 is a fair piece away - but I’m doing alright. So are a lot of others - today.
As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program a few weeks ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong.
As I’ve mentioned, my course requires participation in three online chats throughout its 8-week run. I missed the first chat as I was in a tiny town in a small town outside East London in Eastern Cape, South Africa, and the Internet was spotty.
Wednesday, I returned to the States.
Wednesday, our second chat was scheduled.
After two days of travel involving 3 continents, I had my sister pull over on the drive from O’Hare back down to Springfield, IL and I signed on sitting in supremely busy McDonald’s of Pontiac, IL. (If you don’t think there’s a global information divide, compare that last sentence to this situation and get back to me.)
No matter the free Internet juice my MacBook was sucking down, it just couldn’t talk to the chat room.
As had happened during my first go, I’d log in to the WebCT chat room, one person would send a line of dialogue and the infinite pinwheel of death would appear.
This happened across Firefox, Flock and Chrome.
After 30 minutes of trying, I e-mailed “Education Specialist” to say I wouldn’t be making it to the night’s chat.
Here’s what happens if you miss a chat:
After missing the last chat, I opted for the second choice. I’d intended to go with the first option, but the transcript never got posted. I inquired about it on the discussion board. But, as I’ve now learned, “Education Specialist” doesn’t so much use the discussion board.
I in my e-mail explaining my absence from Chat 2, I said I’d keep an eye out for the transcript. Subtle, I know.
Chat 2’s questions for discussion were:
Some potentially beefy material.
Before I read the transcript, I checked back to see what the requirements for participation were…non-existent.
On the other hand, I found this:
While no set requirements for participation exist, we are to write a synopsis of what we’ve learned in the chat and copy and paste it to our “Chat Log” along with our compiled responses to the weekly discussion forum.
I’m a bit worried that option 4 here runs in contrast with option 2 for those who missed the chat. Seems even if I opt for option 2, I’ll still need to include option 4 which is the same as option 1 above.
Here’s where I’d normally make the argument for putting all information in the same place, but I don’t have it in me right now.
Baffled, I’ve turned to the transcript.
Here’s how the discussion began:
The response to that one was kind of ugly.
The answers, by the way, Active Learning and Classroom Management. The first one makes me chuckle every time.
Then “Education Specialist” said:
But not everyone had finished typing the first strands, so it was a mix of strands in what was an actual request to repeat specific information back to the instructor.
In the middle of it all, someone asked a question about an upcoming assignment and received the reply:
Burn.
It was difficult to read the rest of the transcript. “Education Specialist” would yell each successive pre-announced question and my peers would type their responses back to “Education Specialist.”
Here’s the only feedback I could find:
Warms the cockles, no?
Forty-seven minutes in, and it was over.
Kaput.
In this course, we’ve read (or were assigned to read) multiple chapters about making learning active, moving from a teacher-centered approach, making learning authentic and multiple modalities.
Then, in one of the 3 times we’re all in the same “room,” it’s straight-forward teacher-centered call and response. Desperate for any actual evidence of, you know, chat, I took a tally.
In the discussion that took place before “Education Specialist” left the room, peers responded directly to one another a total of 5 times. Those responses were generally along the lines of “I have used that tool and find it very helpful as well in the math classroom.”
Hardly the free, open and democratic exchange of ideas I work to facilitate in my classroom.
Chat can and should be a much more powerful tool for facilitating learning from varied geographic areas.
Election Night 2008, I sat in Chris’ living room with my laptop, logged in to a moodle chat room open to all SLA learners for discussion of the history that was being made. People were throwing out commentary, questions, answers, tips for the channel with the best coverage. When it got down to the wire, a rich conversation started about how some news outlets were calling the election whilst others were not.
No pre-fab discussion questions were needed. Something interesting to talk about and learn from was happening and so we got together to explore it.
This week, seasoned educators from around the country were asked “What techniques do you utilize to manage classroom behavior?” and 3 people responded with 10 lines of text.
Every second of the 47 minutes that chat was being facilitated could and should have been dedicated to just that question. Teachers from multiple disciplines talking about what they do to set and maintain the climate of their classrooms, and we spent maybe 5 minutes.
This isn’t active learning. This isn’t inquiry. This isn’t constructivist. This isn’t, well, it just isn’t.
“HOW DO YOU INCORPORATE THE THEORIES OF VYGOTSKI, PIAGET, DEWEY, ERIKSON AND OTHE THEORISTS INTO YOUR CLASSROOM[?]”
Better than this.
Hi, you’re doing it wrong.
As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program three weeks ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong.
There were stone tools, there was the wheel, there was online learning, there was the discussion board.
Instructors looked at this and said it was good.
Learners looked at this and said was annoyingly restrictive at times.
The discussion board for my current master’s class looks like this:
The standing assignment for the discussions says:
The “Education Specialist” has contributed to this discussion board this many times:
0
Here’s why “Education Specialist” needs not worry about joining in:
Learner’s options for posting new threads to the discussion board look like this:
That’s right, we can’t.
Some thoughts:
- I don’t always have 250 words in response to the posted discussion questions that are often meant only to check if we’ve completed the reading.
- Requiring me to reply to 2 people means I tend to reply to the two folks who posted their responses earliest and never read the responses of those who follow.
- Knowing people are responding to what I wrote because they were required to spend 100 words on my thinking cheapens it.
- Inferring that my discussion log is going to be used to check for completion and not quality of discussion cheapens it.
- Not being able to post what I like when I find it cuts out the possibility of organic discussion and learning.
I don’t find future contributions from “Education Specialist” likely either. There’s no pushing of thinking, there’s no questioning of our premises, no “Oh, I found this link to this article related to the reading for this week.”
The others in the class have picked up on the hoop-jumping nature of the discussion board assignment as well. Posts are empty, enough words to get by and then done. Not about the ideas, but about the word count.
Not that the questions lend themselves to real depth.
The one assignment from the course where I’d like to have seen and responded to my peers’ work and have them do the same for mine was the drafting of our philosophies of teaching. These documents outlining who we are as teachers and where we come from could have led to some interesting discussion and thinking.
The philosophies went straight to the assignment dropbox. Why collaborate on those?
I’ve used the moodle discussion forum in teaching many times. I’ll throw a forum up for sharing resources or giving feedback on drafts of essays or discussing readings. I’ve done the whole “respond to two other people” thing. I don’t know that I’ll be doing that again. I’ve come to realize it’s the online equivalent of forced mingling. The worry could be that people won’t respond to one another if not required to. If you have to require someone to use the tool and they wouldn’t normally do so, you might be using the wrong tool. Maybe content matters?
I’ll certainly be keeping this experience in mind the next time I use the discussion forum in class. Discussion isn’t enough. It seems we need actually be saying something.
Hi, you’re doing it wrong.
Day 3 at Wavecrest Primary saw an hour of play time for the grade 7 teachers, the vice principal and the school’s lab assistant. The way Benji and I have been handling things is sitting the laptop on the desk in the case at the top of the session and saying, “Ok, let’s start. First, would you hook up the laptop please?”
Startled looks.
“Don’t worry. We won’t let you do anything that can’t be fixed.”
Cautiously they began.
We’ve met with the grade-level teachers for every grade in the school.
Some teachers have never touched a laptop before. The adapter on the VGA cable has been a cause of difficulty for most. Once past it, we tell them to play with the SMART Board doing anything they’d like.
A quizzical look.
“Seriously.”
Eventually they start to play.
By the end of the hour, once they’ve learned how to shut down and pack up the laptop, every teacher says something to the effect of “I didn’t know I could do that.”
It’s pretty awesome to see teachers get so jazzed about something they can use immediately in their practice.
Today, after our sessions, I got to visit classes.
I started with Ms. Hendricks’ Reception Level (kindergarten) class. We were learning listening skills by clapping when she said the word “sun” - more difficult than you might think.
From there, I joined Ms. La Vita’s grade 4 class in the computer lab. They were using Encarta Kids to find maps of South Africa. Then, Ms. La Vita let them use the Games and Activities section.
Twenty-six computers, 40 plus learners. They were 2 to a machine. Except Wallace. He’d sat at the machine with the bunk monitor.
I tried to fix it but I couldn’t.
I pulled out my laptop.
We looked at pictures from this year and last on iPhoto. I was getting ready to go talk to the rest of the class, so I opened Word. “Write a note about whatever you want,” I said.
“Write a note to who?”
“To me.”
“Ok,” he said with a pensive look.
Fifteen minutes later, Wallace waved me to the back of the room.
Here’s what he wrote:
I know he doesn’t know me. I know I’m not really his hero. But, he typed it for me. He was proud of it. So, no matter how cynical you are, let me think, for today, that I’m Wallace’s hero and he’ll miss me.
As I’ve explained, I started my master’s program three weeks ago. Through an online program, I’ll have a Master’s of Teaching and Learning in Curriculum and Instruction in 14 months. It’s my first time in an all-online learning environment. They’re doing it wrong.
This is the front page of my current course:
This is the discussion forum:
You’ll note there are multiple threads. That’s because not everyone in the course responds to the weekly discussion questions through reply.
Here’s a classmate’s response post:
Here’s my attempt to preemptively stop all of my classmates from posting their discussions and responses as file attachments:
The “Education Specialist” has a thread about each upcoming assignment, except one that was due last Sunday. On the syllabus, it’s due next Sunday:
On the due date sheet, it was due last Sunday:
In the course dropbox, it was due last Sunday:
In the discussion forum, where we’ve been alerted to how to complete all assignments, not a peep:
My e-mail:
The “Education Specialist’s” response:
The page that has heretofore gone unmentioned in the discussion forum:
Each course at SLA uses moodle as a content delivery system. From time to time, I’ve attempted to use Google Calendar or other means of delivering due dates and course assignments. It hasn’t worked. My learners have looked in one place. If I put it in one place, they know where to look. It makes the actual work easier if they don’t have to search for assignment due dates and descriptions.
The same could be said for this course.
In short, they’re doing it wrong.
I wasn’t quite certain what to expect when meeting the principal of Wavecrest Primary School Wednesday.
I’ll be working with the faculty at Wavecrest next week to help their teachers who attended our Cape Town workshops further integrate tech into their teaching. I’m also hoping to work with their ICT Committee to set up a structured, regular schedule for meeting to achieve the school’s vision for ICT integration.
Those were the ideas in my head prior to meeting with the principal.
I knew full well they could fall by the wayside - or waveside (sorry).
Each member of our team is paired with a school identified by Edunova as most likely to benefit from some one-on-one attention in our last week here.
I’d heard varying stories from the other principal meetings. One had waved it off and said we should speak with the school’s LAN Administrator*. While not standing in the way of ICT integration, that principal wasn’t willing to make room on his plate for taking it on as his own priority either.
Some pieces of this process really do translate internationally.
These meetings can also be tricky if we run into an overzealous principal. The one who asks for full-faculty trainings, repairs to a long-defunct computer lab, physical resources, etc.
The whole idea behind EBB is capacity building.
We work with those on the ground here to build their knowledge and plans for passing that knowledge on.
If I give a whole-faculty workshop on the ins and outs of PowerPoint, the learning’s more than likely to stop once I walk o
ut the door. Teachers are sometimes left waiting for the next year’s team to pick up where I left off, not building their skills throughout the year. It
might be doing the right things, but it wouldn’t be doing things right.
As much as I was braced for the aloof, uninvolved principal, I was prepared for the hyper-interested, high-maintenance principal as well.
Wavecrest presented me with neither.
Waiting in for our meeting, I saw three of the teachers from the week before. I got hugs.
When my colleagues from Edunova, Khosi and Benji, and I sat down with the principal, he was gregarious and welcoming.
After formal introductions, I asked what help we might be able to provide around ICT integration in the coming week.
His teachers lack confidence, he said. They need to know they can use technology without fear.
“What about the school’s ICT committee?” I asked.
We have one, yes, but they will meet here and there.
“Would it be alright if we worked to set up something more formal?”
“Oh, yes, yes. That would be very good.”
2 for 2
“We have 3 SMART Boards,” he said, “But none of the teachers use them because they do not know how. Could you show them?”
“Your teachers at last week’s workshops rece
ived training on SMART Boards. We could work with them to design workshops where they help their colleagues learn about the boards.”
Again, agreement.
“Is there anything else you can think of?” I asked.
“Would you have time to visit some of our classes and observe the learners and talk with our teachers?”
Jackpot! I miss kids. It’s even worse to be spending all this time in schools, but not get to work directly with kids.
Friday Khosi, Benji and I will be meetin
g with the principal, the seven teachers who attended the workshops and the two members of the ICT committee who weren’t at the workshops. We’ll be forming up a plan for the week ahead.
I love it when a plan comes together.
*LAN Administrator here means a teacher who is in charge of developing a time table for the use of a school’s computer lab along with other duties.
Running 13 miles didn’t kill me. I don’t even think I garnered any scars.
As I wrote earlier, I’m pushing through with Toronto Marathon training this go round in South Africa.
That meant a long run Sunday.
The last time I tried anything over 10 miles, I ended up running 10 miles. It wasn’t pretty. Not enough to eat that day, dehydrated from the get go, no precursor training beforehand. Name a stupid error distance runners make and I made it.
It was ugly.
Luckily, it was also 5 months ago.
I’ve a solid training foundation of approximately 30 mi/wk working for me this time.
Sunday worked.
Though I had to complete it by repeats of running out 2 miles and back 2 miles, I got my 13 - well, 13.1 (Why not run the half when you’re that close anyway?).
Clocking in at a 8′11″/mile pace, I was proud.
The only real break was when the ole digestive track sent me inside. No worries on that; it provided a chance at grabbing an orange.
After a day off for recovery Monday, I hit the road again Tuesday, running toward the sun setting behind Table Mountain. There are worse moments in life.
Six miles completed with a 8′19″/mile pace.
I didn’t stop the entire six. The goal was to slow myself down.
It didn’t really work.
I need to run with someone else. I need a pacer.
This has never EVER been a problem for me. Then again, I’ve never run this much or this fast before.
All I know how to do is run.
I mean, I know more than that. I know a bunch of the jargon and science and philosophy.
But, when I’m on the road, all I know how to do is run.
Slowing down was never an anticipated problem.
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