Not going to say hello Egg Girl? Don’t worry, I can read what’s between the lines: Lane 1, Lane 2, Lane 3…
My stomach hurts. I either am nervous or……hold on…..yep, still hurts. I am nervous. I shouldn’t be except for the fact that Rusty told me to be. Good listener that I am, I descend the bleachers toward the oval full of energetic worry. The workout is a challenging one for me: 3x 1600 5:40, 5:30, 5:20.
For the past 3 years, everytime I run a single “time trial” mile, I have landed between 5:14-5:20. My best mile repeat has turned out 5:31, 5:32, 5:33. I decide to not think about the last mile until I have to.
“Run the 5:40 Drea,” Rusty tells me, “If it isn’t working, I’m changing the workout.”
And then with that winning smile, “Good Luck.”
“Thanks,” I say punching my watch and leaning into the first 100 meters, “I think.”
Mile 1- A nice buttery 5:38. That result is not going to buy me a change of workout. I SLOWLY jog through my recover. T2 arrives at track volunteering to join my fun. Welcome friend!
T2 lines up with me and we slide into the second mile. I am certain he is present because I can hear him, but I would be lying if I did not say the calmness of my breathe did not empower me to punch the gas just a smidge. Hold on T2, here we go buddy.
Mile 2- Again it felt smooth: 5:24. Hard yes- I mean I did not desire to keep on running one more lap; however, the effort was neither wild nor spastic.
Now I am tingling in excitement. T2 what do you feel? T2? Ready pal?
We line back up. Rusty warns me that whatever I lead out in, I must stick. Then….
“Give me your watch Drea,” Rusty takes my purple Timex from my wrist, “It will be freeing. Run by feel and I’ll call your numbers.”
I appreciate the way my mind now runs mile repeats. I do not count laps, but rather focus on one individual lap at a time. First, one hard and controlled lap.
Next, one more hard lap that will take me to the half way point. Lap two is my least favorite lap.
The third lap is a known trap. I actively fight the devilish slow down. This impending drag weighs on my mind the entire lap. I repetitively tell myself, “Don’t slow down.” Pushing harder into lap three than lap two, I promise myself just one more lap.
The fourth lap is ruled by the mind because the body is now upset. Yet, this is an easy mental game because discomfort now has a finish line…..Right…..There….Done.
Hold on. I need to SUCK the sweet, sweet oxygenated runner’s high. I got my glow. T2 did you get a glow? T2? T2? Two things in this world give you this kind of glow: 1. A really good hard and successful workout or race AND 2. A really good hard and successful….um, hand shake. Love those hand shakes. Good stuff. Alright, two good workouts means a little more than one good workout, but I will hold it at that because I never really know what Halo is up to until she drops the race numbers. I have also learned that lesson.
Thanks Running for another flirty morning. It’s like you brought me flowers! I won’t hold my breathe on dinner and wine.