Track Crazies

"For something to hurt that bad, and feel so good, it's just inexplicable"-Adam Goucher

Every so often, a runner goes crazy. She intentionally decides to inflict hurt upon herself, to put herself on the line, and risk disappointment. Sound familiar? This is the track workout.

Recently, I felt myself heading down this path. Frustrated after a hard day at work, I felt the need to relieve some stress. Although I had been craving some local ice cream, my thoughts immediately went to the track. For some reason, the idea of pounding out 400s on the track, rounding those corners again and again, gasping for air, legs heavy from lactic acid, appealed to me. Oh yes, its masochistic. But at the same time it feels fantastic to leave it all on the track. I knew that if I could get through this workout I would feel so much better.

Yesterday I almost didn't make it. It threatened to rain, and then did, and I considered scrapping the workout and biking at the gym while watching old episodes of SNL. But in the back of my head was the reminder that I wanted to run fast, and that this doesn't happen overnight or on its own, so I laced up and headed to the track. I'm working up to this 10k in a week so I went for a classic 10k workout from college: 3xMile. Like my last race, I didn't know what to expect for this workout. I figured I'd aim for 7:45 pace and try to dip down the last mile. As I started my first rep, I realized I hadn't even calculated my splits, and since I am not great at math, I had no idea what to shoot for. Having been on the track probably a thousand times, there are certain benchmarks: 1:30 for 400 is 6:00 pace, 1:45 is 7:00. But what if I wanted to run 7:39? Forget it. I started out at a comfortably hard pace and didn't check my watch until the first quarter. The math still eluded me but as I saw a 1:49, I knew that this would be a good workout. And so the chase began. On the one hand, I was pushing myself hard, constantly reminding myself not to let up on the back stretch, and to use my arms to motivate my legs. On the other hand, I didn't want to be disappointed; it was only a track workout after all, and it was just me out there.

I split every 400 and even as my splits dropped, I continued to feel good. Between miles I took roughly 1 minute rest, and felt heavy, droopy, and queazy in the thick, spring air. But once I stepped back on the track and began again, the humidity would fade and I could focus once again. I clocked two miles in 7:14, 7:15, with the first mile being my new post-broken leg mile PR. After mile 2 I felt good and decided I was going to go for sub-7 for my third mile. I started out a little harder than I had before, and crossed 800 at 3:32, slightly above 7:00 pace. I dug in, faced the wind and rain around the corners, checked my watch with 200 to go, and went for it. I do not have the best kick, but dammit I wanted a sub-7 mile. I may have groaned out loud as I crossed the finish line (I did). 6:58. This is a post-broken leg PR that I can be proud of.

What I'm most excited for, though, is the difference between this workout and my 5k race just a few short weeks ago. I'm not saying that I could average 7-flat for 6.2 miles next weekend in Providence on a hilly course, but now I have confidence in my ability. Throughout the workout I reminded myself that it was only myself holding me back. Not my legs, not my training, not the weather or the road conditions. If I want to run fast, I can.