On the schedule: Wednesday night track workout, with the D.C. Road Runners: 10x400, with 100 recovery, which, with a 1 mile warmup and 1 mile cooldown, would give me a nice 5 miles.
I haven't been on the track in <cough> weeks, so I was a little worried. Ten repeats? Really? Maybe I could shoot for five and see if I'm coughing up a lung.
I met up with my New Triathlon Program mentee, who is two years my senior (yes, you read that right), and runs 7 minute miles. Yes, I'm mentoring her. Don't ask.
She agreed to pace me to hit my target 400 time, 2:16-2:22, based on the handy McMillan running calculator.
Off we go! Whee! I am FEELING GOOD!
First 400: 2:22
Perfect.
2nd 400: 2:03
Damn! But, OK, that was a total fluke. No way did I just run an 8 minute mile.
3rd 400: 1:58
What??! I'm not even out of breath! I must be in way better shape than I thought.
4th 400: 2:01
OK, I am in AWESOME SHAPE. I can do 10 of these standing on my head. I'm barely sweating! I am en fuego.
5th 400: 1:55 I am seriously not even trying. Have I finally conquered running?? I RULE!
And that's when my mentee and I split up, so she could, as she colloquially put it, "Challenge myself a little bit."
No problem.
I'm amazed I managed to carry on a conversation. How is that possible?? In fact, I vaguely recall um, being unbelievably annoyed by peeps chatting on the track. "If you're chatting, you ain't working!"
So, you know where this is going, right?
6th 400: 1:55 God, I'm so consistent!
7th 400: 1:5...wait a minute....how come I'm starting and ending at the exact same place even though I have 100 recovery in between? How is that possible??? [Wheels start slowly turning as brain processes question. And...cue lightbulb.]
ARE YOU ON CRACK? HELLO????
YOU ARE DOING 300s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU DID NOT SUDDENLY START RUNNING 8 MINUTE MILES!!!!
Nevermind 10x400, you need 10xdopeslap!
8th 400: 2:22 Ah, yes, this suddenly feels harder. And familiar.
9th 400: 2:34 Oh HOW THE MIGHTY FALL.
10th 400: 2:23 Le sigh.
In my defense, if I hadn't broken my NO TALKING rule, I would have been paying attention, and I would have realized that if you run 400, with 100 recovery, it's not really possible, mathematically, physically, or on any other plane of existence, to start and end at the same place.
Oh yes, you want ME as your MENTOR.
Sign up here.
Showing posts with label DCRR. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DCRR. Show all posts
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Best. Run. Ever.
I'm in this crazy no-man's land of 1) not having a training plan, 2) or a running group and 3) waiting for my beginner's triathlon orientation so that I can get #1 and 2.
So I've kinda been winging it during the week, and my Saturday long-runs have alternated 6-8-10 miles, except usually it was more like 6-8-6-8-10-6-8-6 etc. With Bex having to literally plead with me to GET OUT the door last week.
So, to forestall any problems getting my ass in gear Saturday, Friday night I wrote to my good friend DC Spinster, who is the HEAD COACH for the uniquely named Reebok Wirefly National Half Marathon program (powered by D.C. Road Runners) and asked if I could run with one of his training groups Saturday morning--the slow group, whose coach I knew from the DCRR 10-mile program—sort of as a trial even though I kind of already knew I wouldn't be officially joining.
He said sure, so I left home at 6:00 a.m. Saturday morning, in order to allow plenty of time to get lost in Arlington. The group met at 8:00 and at 8:05 after driving all over creation, I had totally given up ever finding them, when I stumbled across the group just as just as they were leaving Gotta Run, the meet-up place.
I rolled down my car window and shrieked at coach J that, like the second coming, I was here! She tried to yell back the route directions: "Past the monument! Over the bridge! On to the Mall!" Which was terrific, except? There are 10,000 monuments in this city, I had no idea where I was, and there are what, four bridges?
Could I possibly catch them??
My tires screeched as I rounded the corner and pulled into a parking place. I tossed off my eight layers of outerwear and grabbed a water bottle.
Well bless my stars and garters. As a ran out of the parking lot, I saw that Coach J. had held up the entire group just for MOI!!
No turning back now!
The "slow" group was running 8 miles (perfect, see above) on a route that went by the Pentagon, over the Memorial Bridge, on to the National Mall, and back. It was a cold, crisp, gray day, slight wind, perfect for running. I love running over the Potomac River on days like this. It's peaceful at that time of the morning, you can see flocks of Canadian geese heading ... somewhere. And you feel so ... noble, with the city at your feet.
We soon separated into two groups, and then into three. I hung in there, repeating to all who would listen, "um, this is my 5k pace, people!" To which Coach J. replied, "Well, now it's your 1/2 marathon pace!"
The last two miles were tough. By now there were three people in my group, and I was hanging on for dear life to the other two runners. They knew i was struggling, but promised not to leave me because they also knew I'd never find my way back. Soon, I was dead last. I was dying. I held on to one thought: You have no money and no phone and no idea where the hell you are going. Follow those girls!
I made it back, after a final 25-yard sprint (egged on by Coach J.) in 1:25. That's an average 10:38 min. mile.
Now I know it must seem like I've forever bragging in this here little blog (well, except when I'm moaning and complaining) but: DAMN!!! I'm an 11:30 min. miler-girl! No, seriously!
Apparently, there is nothing like naked fear to speed you up. And running with a group and talking. Cuz before you know it, you're almost done and you haven't, um, actually died.
When I run long by myself? I am la-de-dah out for a stroll.
The longer the distance, the more my pace curls up into the fetal position and takes a nap.
If you want an eight mile tempo run, run with a group that is faster than you are and make sure you have no idea how to get back to the start.
That is how you do that!
So I've kinda been winging it during the week, and my Saturday long-runs have alternated 6-8-10 miles, except usually it was more like 6-8-6-8-10-6-8-6 etc. With Bex having to literally plead with me to GET OUT the door last week.
So, to forestall any problems getting my ass in gear Saturday, Friday night I wrote to my good friend DC Spinster, who is the HEAD COACH for the uniquely named Reebok Wirefly National Half Marathon program (powered by D.C. Road Runners) and asked if I could run with one of his training groups Saturday morning--the slow group, whose coach I knew from the DCRR 10-mile program—sort of as a trial even though I kind of already knew I wouldn't be officially joining.
He said sure, so I left home at 6:00 a.m. Saturday morning, in order to allow plenty of time to get lost in Arlington. The group met at 8:00 and at 8:05 after driving all over creation, I had totally given up ever finding them, when I stumbled across the group just as just as they were leaving Gotta Run, the meet-up place.
I rolled down my car window and shrieked at coach J that, like the second coming, I was here! She tried to yell back the route directions: "Past the monument! Over the bridge! On to the Mall!" Which was terrific, except? There are 10,000 monuments in this city, I had no idea where I was, and there are what, four bridges?
Could I possibly catch them??
My tires screeched as I rounded the corner and pulled into a parking place. I tossed off my eight layers of outerwear and grabbed a water bottle.
Well bless my stars and garters. As a ran out of the parking lot, I saw that Coach J. had held up the entire group just for MOI!!
No turning back now!
The "slow" group was running 8 miles (perfect, see above) on a route that went by the Pentagon, over the Memorial Bridge, on to the National Mall, and back. It was a cold, crisp, gray day, slight wind, perfect for running. I love running over the Potomac River on days like this. It's peaceful at that time of the morning, you can see flocks of Canadian geese heading ... somewhere. And you feel so ... noble, with the city at your feet.
We soon separated into two groups, and then into three. I hung in there, repeating to all who would listen, "um, this is my 5k pace, people!" To which Coach J. replied, "Well, now it's your 1/2 marathon pace!"
The last two miles were tough. By now there were three people in my group, and I was hanging on for dear life to the other two runners. They knew i was struggling, but promised not to leave me because they also knew I'd never find my way back. Soon, I was dead last. I was dying. I held on to one thought: You have no money and no phone and no idea where the hell you are going. Follow those girls!
I made it back, after a final 25-yard sprint (egged on by Coach J.) in 1:25. That's an average 10:38 min. mile.
Now I know it must seem like I've forever bragging in this here little blog (well, except when I'm moaning and complaining) but: DAMN!!! I'm an 11:30 min. miler-girl! No, seriously!
Apparently, there is nothing like naked fear to speed you up. And running with a group and talking. Cuz before you know it, you're almost done and you haven't, um, actually died.
When I run long by myself? I am la-de-dah out for a stroll.
The longer the distance, the more my pace curls up into the fetal position and takes a nap.
If you want an eight mile tempo run, run with a group that is faster than you are and make sure you have no idea how to get back to the start.
That is how you do that!
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