Speed Work: A Necessary Evil

I hate speed work.  I know, who doesn’t.  It’s horrible.  It’s hard.  It makes me feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.  But it works.  I had big aspirations for this training session.  I was going to do at least one speed workout per week.  I was going to get faster.  I was going to get stronger.  I was going to run the Mini in 1:45:00.

I’d like to say that I have some excuse for not sticking with the plan.  Injury, sickness, something.  Anything other than laziness.  But I’m afraid that’s the truth.  As I planned my runs for each week, I saw the days where a speed workout would fit in nicely.  Each week I had an excuse ready.  “I don’t have access to a track.”  “It’s snowy out.”  “My shins hurt.”

About two weeks ago (and six weeks out from the race), my  husband and I ran this 5K.  I gave it my all. I ran hard.  At the end, I was spent.  My pace? 8:06.  You know what that isn’t?  8:00 – the pace I need for a 1:45:00.  I felt kind of discouraged and disappointed.  I was certain there was no way I could keep up even an 8:06 pace for a half marathon.  What happened to my grand plans?  The time that was just out of reach at the last race was likely going to continue to be so.

Then I got over the pity party.  I still had six weeks.  That’s a lot of training time.  I started thinking of workouts that I could do that didn’t have to involve the track (although I have every intention of checking out the Monon Center – the indoor track is free).  The easiest workout for me (and by easy, I mean in terms of keeping track of the speed portion) are those based on time.  Three minutes all out.  Five minutes all out.  Ladders.  It’s hard to do alone, but I knew I could tackle them.

Last week I got serious.  I mapped out roughly a 4 mile route with 4 major hills (major when compared to the relative flatness that is Indy) over on Butler’s campus.  The run involved four 3 minute pick ups – you guessed it – up each of the hills.  The last one nearly did me in, but I did it.

This week I stepped it up a bit.  This week is my highest mileage week for this training program – 34 miles with a 10 mile long run.  I needed to do 6 miles yesterday, and I figured with 2-2.5 miles of warm up/cool down, I would be fine.  About a mile in, I saw an unopened Reese’s Peanut Butter Egg on the street.  It looked like it had just been dropped.  It wasn’t smooshed.  And yeah, I seriously thought about picking it up.  I refrained.

I started my first 3 minute pick up, and I could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to go my fastest through each interval.  I tried not to think about the two 5 minute intervals or the three other 3 minute intervals.  I tried not to think of the three hills I had purposefully included in my route.  I tried not to think about what would happen if those hills came at the end of an interval.  I just ran, focusing only on turning my legs over quickly for the duration of those three minutes.

As I feared, the first hill came at the end of the first 5 minute interval.  I pushed through, and savored the gravitational pull as I ran back down the hill.  Before I knew it, I was on my last pick up.  Just three more minutes and I could take as long as I wanted to get home.  Oh, and it was about this time that I really started to wish I’d picked up that Reese’s egg.  I deserved such a tasty reward.  (It’s possible I was not getting enough oxygen to the brain).

I took off, and again, as feared, that last looming hill was facing me, mocking me.  I pushed my legs harder.  Even though it didn’t feel like I was actually moving forward, the next thing I knew I was at the top.  I had just twenty more seconds to go.  I may have thrown my arms in the air in victory as I counted down 5-4-3-2-1.

Today I was sore, but in a good way.  It’s the kind of soreness that let’s you know you worked your muscles.  It’s not often that I feel that way after a run these days.  After last week’s speed session, I had a pretty good pace for my long run.  I have high hopes for Saturday’s 10.  And maybe, just maybe, 1:45:00 isn’t out of reach.  I’m not ready yet to give up hope.

Getting the Lead Out | 7 Weeks to the Mini

I can’t believe it’s only seven weeks until the Mini (that’s me in the pink crossing the finish line last year).  Where has the time gone?  I have been a little concerned about my training this time around.  I’ve had very few good runs.  You know, those runs where everything just feels right? Your pace is good, your form is good, you just feel good. Those have been few and far between.

This past week I was just thinking about how my legs have been feeling like lead for a long time.  My pace has been so-so, but the runs are hard. I can barely lift my legs up, and I’m tired two miles in.  This is only my fourth half marathon, and I haven’t run a race in a year.  I thought maybe this is just how I’m supposed to feel a little over halfway through the training.  Maybe I just forgot how I usually feel as this point.

But today – today was different.  I woke up looking forward to the run.  (It still kind of amazes me how much of an impact a positive attitude has on a run.) The weather was beautiful.  Even though I already had 17 miles in for the week, I felt good.  My Saturday morning running buddy is nursing a sore Achilles right now, but my husband agreed to run the eight miles with me.  We took off and a couple of miles in I realized this could be a decent run.

It was a bit chilly in the breeze, but the sun was warm.  I mentally kicked myself for not putting on sun screen before we left.  We passed the same goose on the tow path that always hisses at us.  We made it into Broad Ripple and turned onto the Monon heading north.  There were tons of people out.  It was great.  We even passed a couple of Back on My Feet runners out training for the Carmel Marathon.  We got to our turn around point and I looked at my watch for the first time.  I was shocked.  It didn’t really feel like we were going that fast.  I thought perhaps I’d messed up starting/stopping my watch at one of the intersections.

Whether it was accurate or not, I was motivated to pick it up the rest of the way home.  We took a quick break then started off.  And something amazing happened.  My legs felt light, quick, like they wanted to run.  Finally!  I picked up the pace, feeling a little guilty about it since this was the first time my husband had run 8 miles (not to mention he’s run with me every day this week, so he’s probably at his highest mileage for a week).

We passed a man who waved at us and told us to have a safe jog.  We passed another man who waved and shouted “Hello!”.  After we passed him, I could hear him doing the same to all the other runners and walkers.  At around 2 miles left, I wasn’t sure I could keep the pace up.  There was no longer a chill in the breeze, and the sun was warming up.  I checked my watch again.  If we made it 52nd Street in another ten minutes, we might be able to make the eight miles in under 1:10:00.  We passed a man wearing a shirt that said “Running Sucks.”  I wished I was wearing my “My Sport is Your Sport’s Punishment” shirt.  And then we hit 52nd Street in under 9 minutes.

Even thought I already felt a bit like vomiting, I knew if I just pushed myself a little harder, I would have an awesome time to pair with the awesome feeling.  I looked over my shoulder and told my husband I was going to pick it up for the last mile, and I took off.  I pulled my headphones out of my ears.  It was just me, the sound of my shoes on the pavement, my breathing, and the chirping birds.

I wasn’t going to look at my watch again until I was done.  I was just going to focus on how I felt.  We came up to 49th and College and something I wasn’t expecting happened.  My husband passed me.  And I don’t mean by a little.  He blew by me!  He is faster than me, but I knew he hadn’t been feeling as good as me that morning – some aches and pains, not enough water yesterday.  I tried to keep up with him, or at least close the gap, but he finished more than half a block ahead of me.

I used that as motivation to go as fast as I possibly could.  I rounded the corner towards home, and pretended I was approaching the Mini finish line.  I stopped my watch – 1:08:24.  Success!  The need to vomit immediately went away.  I congratulated my husband and we finished the cool down together.

I really needed that run today.  I needed a mental adjustment.  Sometimes your legs feel like lead.  Sometimes you’re tired.  But you just have to keep putting in the miles.  It will pay off.  What this means is that now I need to focus on speed work.  I hate speed work.  But it too will pay off.  I really want that 1:45:00 finish.