Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Today's Tale: Torturous Track Tempo Training Trot

People often ask what we runners think about as we're running all those miles. We think about blog post titles such as this one. And when they find out, they're sorry they asked. It would have been nice to be able to include the word, tremendous in there. Nice, but not quite appropriate. Torturous, unfortunately, is the more apt descriptive adjective.


It's been tough to keep motivated now that Erie is over. Other than late November's Buckeye Woods 50K, there's nothing else on the horizon at the moment. Without some Big Race on the calendar, and perhaps with some still ongoing post-race mental and physical damage, I just don't feel like running so much or so fast these days.


Today would be different. It would be a Something of Substance Tuesday Track Trot. I show up at 5:15, and run a few easy miles with co-worker Colleen DeVito, who's getting ready for her first half-marathon in a while. Then I pick it up to begin the speedwork.


What particular speedwork am I doing, you ask? Darned if I know; I make this stuff up as I go along. That's especially true when there's no race looming in the near future.


I am nearing a mile at this tremendous 7:30-ish pace when I consider whether to slow down at the completion of said mile. In other words, should I do mile intervals, or a tempo run. (I am already committed to something longer than 800s or 1200s, by the way.)


The mile goes by, and I keep going. This does indeed become a 3-mile tempo run, and by the time I hit overall mile six, I'm ready for a quick pit stop. Can I do a few more miles at this pace?


Besides something of substance, I'd wanted to get to a total of ten, or possibly eleven miles today. This usually isn't a problem for these mid-week speed sessions. It is today. After a couple additional fast, but not quite as fast miles, I ease up for a cooldown mile. The watch indicates nine miles. What? I thought it was ten for sure. Is there some mistake?


Nope. Nine is correct; the only mistake is my brain. I struggle mightily, but manage another mile.


I am still (still!) waiting for this to become easy.



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