Do you ever get so stuck in your normal routine that you sort of forget that it’s okay to move things around? You cling to one allotted time for, say, running, and then you hit an errant day in which it’s not really ideal (at all) and you scramble to try to rearrange everything else that is much less pliable than you and your running shoes. If you’re lucky, before you set your alarm for some ungodly hour you’ll realize that it might be okay to run after work instead, just this once, which coincidentally would mean a less treacherous run in actual daylight with your favorite tunes, versus a somewhat terror filled slog in the dark requiring an alert eye and ear for various dangers. In this not-so-hypothetical-fable, I ventured into the unknown this week—the land of the evening run.
I spied this morning’s speed workout on my calendar last week, and was nervous about it. I attempted this workout 2 weeks ago, and while it wasn’t awful, it wasn’t great either. This morning’s weather wasn’t exactly encouraging; it’s unseasonably cold today (in the 30s when I headed out) and windy. Wind is never a friendly addition to harder efforts, or at least not when you’re running into it. The prescribed workout was a 3 mile warm up, 5 x 1K (5K pace) with 200m jogs in between, and a 2 mile cool down. The goal was also to run the 1K’s progressively faster. Last time, I failed to do this, but I think mostly because I hadn’t quite visualized the paces. I don’t normally run kilometers, and I guess it was a bit of a cerebral malfunction. When I viewed the repeats by the mile pace required for each it made more sense, so I knew what it would loosely feel like. I also wrote the times on my hand because I think seeing them helped with the visualization, and also helped me hone in on each split’s specific effort. Small things.
You guys, I failed to write yesterday, which I suppose means technically speaking my 30 day writing challenge was a bust, but like anything else (especially running), I’m picking myself back up and keeping this thing rolling. This is day 12, but I missed day 11 (in case you’re keeping count too). Yesterday, well, I don’t even know. It was busy, I got home from work and was so relieved that this week was almost over and that I would be sleeping in this morning that I created my only little party. By that I mean, I excitedly curled up on the couch to stay up a little later to finish my book. I live on the edge. At any rate, taking a few minutes out of this wild night to blog completely slipped my mind.
Here we go, day 3 of my self-imposed 30 day writing challenge. Today’s post is dedicated to the amazing moon I ran under this morning, though my picture doesn’t do it justice.
In prep for my 5k this upcoming Sunday, this morning’s workout included some speed work to get my legs ready. My workout went something like this:
2 mile warm up
3 x 800m at race pace with 200m recoveries
4 x 200m below race pace with 200m recoveries
2 mile cool down
This morning I had a fun workout – 12 x 400 (goal 1:40), with 1 minute recoveries and a 2 mile warm-up and cool down. I ran the 400s on a flat stretch, cranked my music, and let it rip. Man, it felt good, like really good – fist-pumping, high-fiving good. At the end of the 12 repeats my legs were sufficiently tired, and I started the slow crawl home. Some days it seems like some runs are meant to be, and I filed this in that category, not just because I consistently hit my target, but because I managed to stay out of the path of an ominous storm cloud, and was instead gifted with a rainbow on its fringes when I turned the corner to head home. I mean, c’mon. Sure, it’s cheesy, but I’ll take it as a universal sign to keep trucking.