Monday, May 31, 2010

Workouts are flexible

What a hellacious week. Kicked it off Sunday with a solid 15-miler, no gels, mid-70s and humid. Felt good, but was totally wiped out when it was over. Laid on my living room floor for a while when I got back.

No getting squirelly on Monday, stuck to the muddy, hilly trails in anticipation of Tuesday hill repeats. When we got to Maple for the repeats, it was nearly 80 degrees. I averaged three seconds slower than the week before, with my heart rate max the same, so not bad.

Thursday was my track workout, but coach didn't tell me what it was in advance. That was okay, because it meant I didn't sit around all day Tuesday dreading it. We ran to the track, and coach sent me off on 4x1k at cruise pace (6:15ish). He's trailing me by about 50 meters, and as I finish the first lap, he yells, "Okay, go ahead and open it up; we'll make it a Vo2 workout."

Not one of my favorite phrases. Vo2 max means hard. I yell back and ask if he's serious, he says yes, so I shift into the next gear before I'm out of the curve. Cruise through the lap, and as I'm going into what I think is the last 200 meters, coach yells that the workout is now 1200s.


I get through the lap, finishing the interval in 4:25 after coming through the first lap at 6:15 pace. That means I knocked out a 2:51-ish 800, which is flying for me. I'm not sure I've ever recorded an 800 at that speed. Even if I went through the first lap in 90 (hell if I remember), that's still a 2:55 half-mile. Zoom! That is really good giddy-up for this slow-twitch gal.

Unfortunately I needed to do three more 1200s, and was supposed to hit about 4:25 for them all, just under 6 pace. Eighth-grader Max Mudd (see Cades Cove race report) offered to pace me, which I declined because really that's just embarrassing.

Then I tanked the next interval, with a dismal 4:37. Hit pace on the first lap, then relaxed too much on the second -- I tried to get comfortable and maybe got a little tooooo comfortable.

So of course coach put Max on me for the last two. Now that I didn't need to pay attention to my pace -- 6 min/mi is as easy for Max as texting -- I got to check out my heart rate. Bad decision. Seeing 190s after the first lap is frightening. Apparently that's what I was supposed to be doing, and it doesn't appear to have killed me.

With Max goading me the whole way, we did the last two in 4:27 each, 5:56 pace. Any time I am running sub-6 pace I get nervous. (Hence the summer of 5k training.)

Then we blasted a couple of 400s for fun, I knocked off a couple 82s, then we ran home.

Of course, then Friday felt terrible -- I almost bagged the run a quarter mile in. I thought I was going to die. Coach insisted I would feel fine for the race Saturday, so I wore my compression tights, took an epsom salt bath and crossed my fingers.

If you've read the race report yet, you'll know the finger-crossing was futile. I think the heat and multiple hard sessions took their toll and wiped me out.

But hey, I did finish up the first week of the pushup challenge!

No comments: