Running: Track again tonight. If you recall, your heroine skipped last week's track session because of a pulled calf muscle, putting her seriously behind the eight ball.
And if you recall, the National Half Marathon is this coming Saturday (I think I've mentioned this in every post since January, so I don't know how you could not recall), so I wasn't sure if I should run track tonight or not.
But then I read D.C. Rainmaker. And he said HE was doing a track workout tonight, so of course that meant I had to. (Ray, you should really be more careful with your posts!) Because I have to keep up with a 28-year-old.
On tonight's menu was 4 x 1600 @ Interval pace with 400 recovery. For those keeping track at home, 1600=1 mile. With 1 mile warmup and 1 mile cooldown.
And away we go...
Except I had no idea what my interval pace was because I forgot to check. And as usual, there was no one there from my pace group, so I hung with B. who is in a faster pace group and said she was aiming for 9:10s. I figured I'd aim for 9:40s. I checked when I got home and it turns out...I should have been aiming for 10:15s. Ah, ignorance.
1st 1600: 9:25
2nd 1600: 9:45
3rd 1600: 9:55
4th 1600: 9:58
You might notice, as I did, that these times are going in the wrong direction. I'm pretty sure the goal is to get faster with each repeat. Sigh. This is week 10,000 of the Speed Development Program, and I would like to register an official complaint: I do not feel any faster. The other thing I don't feel are my legs. They had turned into jello by mile 4.
Who doesn't like jello??
I told my coach tonight if I didn't PR on Saturday I was gonna demand a refund. He laughed.
The good news is 1) I went faster than I should have (I think that is good?), and b) I said at the start that I would only do 3 repeats because I could not possibly do 4 and yet? I did 4 anyway. I totally rule.
Swimming, the forgotten sport: In other news: I hired myself a swim coach. We didn't meet Sunday night, because of massive communication fail, so I got all dolled up in my speedo and ambled over to the pool for nothing, but then we DID meet Monday morning at the ass crack of dawn, and it was great!! I'd become so discouraged after all my swim clinic-ing last fall, which added 1 solid minute to my 100s, that I pretty much quit swimming. So she took a look, and guess what? It turns out that when I'm swimming? I'm not actually USING MY ARMS TO MOVE THE WATER. (I'm sure that part of the swim has a name—I just don't know what it is.) So when I swim, my form is terrific (she said), I just have no power.
Who knew? So she had me work on a bunch of stuff until my head was about to explode. You work on one thing and the other 75 parts of swimming fall to pieces. Sigh.
I told her my goal is to join the masters class/team/whatever at my YMCA. She said most masters programs want you to be able to "do 100 on the 2:00" (why must swimmers speak this way?? Why not just say "Swim 100 meters in 2 minutes"?? WHY?)
So I went swimming again this morning, by myself, and I did a gazillion drills and then swam a few 100s and I was at least under 3 minutes. Which totally sucks, but sucks a lot less than the last time I timed myself.
Germany: So...You might remember, that way back in January, our heroine hired a life coach who coached her to set some ambitious goals. And one of them was to live overseas. And Number One Daughter's BF finally got sick of hearing me say this (yes I'm writing in several voices, sue me) so he challenged me to SET A DATE and develop a plan and EXECUTE. And reminded me that I have ONE skill that many Europeans lack, that I might possibly use to earn a living: I speak English. AND, he suggested that this skill might possibly come in very handy in a country in which the main language is NOT English. Well, this led to that, and he sent me a bunch of links about living/working overseas and blah blah yada, the next thing I knew I was applying for a job as a copy editor in Germany.
P.S. I fired my life coach cuz I have NOD's BF for free.