A thirty-something running mama in Portland, OR, who finds sanity in lacing up her Nikes, enjoys the challenge that running and racing brings, but doesn't run very fast. I try to improve my speed with each race, and I share my efforts here.
Living and running in the moment
I only ran two days this last week, but I still kept my usual number of weekly miles. That's because I ended up running about 80% of my miles on one day: yesterday. With the Girlfriends Half in three weeks, and Katherine running the Portland Marathon in two weeks, we wanted to go 14 miles. Our running group was planning to run two iterations of a 7-mile loop, which didn't appeal to either of us. Looking for another route long enough for 14 miles, we somehow decided that running the Wildwood would be a suitable alternative.
Despite a rough start, this past week was much better for me, running-wise. I still haven't kicked this cold, but I feel like I'm on the road to recovery.
Track Tuesday
My stomach was still feeling iffy from whatever I came down with on Sunday, but I was determined to show up for the track workout. Four out of the five of us who showed up are running Hood to Coast, and the three of us who did last week's workout masochistically liked it enough to want to repeat it this week. 4 x (600m at race pace, immediately followed by 200m sprint). I just hope my stomach wouldn't complain too much.
I actually forgot to pace myself in the first round. I went at a faster clip and chatted with my friends. The general rule with speed workouts is that you're supposed to be running fast enough where it's difficult, if not impossible, to talk. It dawned on me right before the sprint that I might not be conserving enough energy to complete the workout 3 more times. But as I kicked into the sprint, I was determined to actually sprint, not just run faster. I turned over my legs like my life depended on it, and I pumped my arms so much I could feel my biceps burning at the end. When I crossed the finish, I was relieved to have ran one, and yet excited to run another one.
My goal in every track workout is to keep each repeat consistent; that is, the time I run each repeat should only be within a second or two of each other. This week was not the case. I progressively got slower and slower each time. My lungs were taxed, my legs jello, and my arms burning by the third repeat, and I sincerely doubt I actually sprinted during the sprints. And each time I added a few more seconds such that I had a 17 second difference between the first and last repeats! At least I jogged most of each recovery lap!
But I was still proud of myself. I seriously thought on my drive over to the track that I should run conservatively or else risk collapsing on the track. Having felt sick even earlier that day, I was afraid to give it my all. My husband tells me I'm underestimating myself, that I am probably in the best shape of my adult life. Maybe he's right, but I still have a lot to work on!
Miles: 4 (warmup, 4x(600m, 200m) w/400m recovery, cooldown)
Times: 3:42, 3:51, 3:54, 3:59
Tempo Thursday
I planned to run an easy 2-4 miles on Thursday, and I figured my best opportunity would be that evening. While my husband usually puts the kiddo down for bed, I tend to try to get some work, wash dishes, or surf the internet. I had changed into my running clothes when I got home from work, so I was good to go. I had some time to sit on my ass and let my food digest before going out for a run.
But I lost track of time. Suddenly, it was 8:15, and I knew the sun was about to set. I didn't want to run in the dark by myself (I reserve that for one day out of the year), so I scrambled to get my shoes on, gave a quick kiss good-bye to the husband and kiddo, and literally ran out the door. What was supposed to be an easy, relaxed run turned into a 2-mile tempo. I ran quickly through the neighborhood in an effort to get done before dusk. Less than a mile into it I realized that I could ease up the pace and still be okay, but I was feeling fast and, more importantly, strong enough to do it. About 10 minutes into the run I decided to forgo the 3 miles in favor of charging up one of the bigger hills in the 'hood. I usually slow down the second (steeper) half, but this time I pressed on. My lungs heaved like a chain-smoker up a flight of stairs, but I stayed on pace. And my watch confirmed it: I had shaved off about 20-25 seconds from what it normally takes me to go up that half a mile of hill. Woohoo!
I was sweating buckets at the end, but I finished my best time on that route to date! I have some work to do to break 8-minute miles, but I can see it in my sights.
Miles: 2
Time: 16:28
Double-run Saturday
I started the morning with the usual run at Forest Park. Once again, the other mamas wanted to go 8 miles, but since I was planning on running later in the day with a friend, I only wanted to go 6. Sonja was away, so I was left with the speedsters. So much for running a relaxed 6 miles. I chatted with Laura who was nice enough to hang a few steps back with me. I think I could have kept pace with the leaders, but I wasn't up for the mental effort required. I was able to hold my half of the conversation, but there were definitely unnatural breaks in my speech. If your ability to hold a conversation is an indication of running a relaxed long run, then I haven't had a long run in months.
I reached my 3-mile turnaround at 26:03. Whoa. A quick mental calculation and I realized I had just run up the trail with a sub-9 pace. 8:41 to be exact. Whoa. I had been hovering around 9 the last few weeks, and even then it was labored. I'd knocked almost 20 seconds off and I still had enough wind in me to talk! I was certainly pooped, but I was re-energized to book it down the hill. But since I'm still on the tail end of this ridiculous cold and since I was planning to run another 6 later in the day, I decided it would be better to run conservatively. The last thing I wanted to do was bonk on a double-day.
You know that kind of tired you get when you're sick and zapped of any energy you had such that you can't even get up to grab the kleenex box? Well, that's how I started to feel with about 2 miles left. I started to worry I was pushing myself too much and wouldn't have enough for the trail run in the afternoon. But while my mind said ease up, my legs kept the same turnover, and I ended back at the trailhead in about 25 minutes.
The last time I ran a fast 6-miler at Forest Park, I ended up taking a nap later in the afternoon. This time I went to breakfast with my family, and then my husband needed to run a bunch of errands. Since the kiddo was feeling under the weather, she and I stayed home, leaving me to play butler, housekeeper, and all around general personal servant. By the time my husband got home, 6 hours after my last run, I needed to get ready to head back out the door to meet my friend.
Never having ran on the Wildwood trail in Forest Park, Katherine was willing to meet me there for a run. Wildwood is a 30-mile trail of some tough terrain. I've panted from just hiking up some of Wildwood's hills, so I knew it would be a challenge, especially since it was my second run for the day. But I've been wanting to run Wildwood for the challenge and for the change of scenery.
The thing with trail running is that it's more than just running. It's so easy to trip, slip, or twist your ankle, that you really have to pay attention to your footing, and your core works to keep you stable every step of the way. Katherine is just a few months post-partum, but I was working to keep up. Our plan was to run 30 minutes out and then turn around and run back. In the last 5 minutes before we turned around, as we ran down a considerable hill, Katherine informed me it was this very hill she struggled up the week before. Great, I thought. Sure enough, just a few minutes later, as we trudged up that hill, I was starting to kick myself. Why did I suggest Wildwood?, I thought. Why didn't I just go easy this morning?
I huffed and puffed and struggled to pick up my feet. We passed to hikers, who kindly said, "Wow, you guys are hardcore." Normally that would light a fire under my ass, but I wasn't even sure I could keep going. And just as I lost focus on the running and started letting doubt set in, it happened. I tripped over a tree root and flew forward. Thankfully, I caught myself (the benefit of running uphill, the ground is much closer), so I just dusted off. But it took enough wind out of me that we walked a couple of minutes before continuing our hill attack. By the time we reached the top, the exhilaration set back in, and by the time we finished I wanted to do it all over again.
But this time, I'm taking down that hill.
Morning Miles: 6
Time: 51:33
Afternoon Miles: 6+ (and not quite 6.5, I'll pay more attention to the markers next time)
Time: 1:03:00
Tuesday track
The group did sprints in the precious track workout, so we decided to do something heard more for distance. 600m at race pace with a final 200m sprint. Recover for 400m.
The trick with longer distances for me is not pacing. It's finding a pace that isn't a sprint. Race pace for 600m doesn't feel fast; it almost feels easy. The final sprint takes some effort, but I still feel good at the end. But that's just the first round.
We lightly jogged a recovery lap, then toed the line for the second time. By the end of the first lap I was starting to huff and puff, and when the sprint came, I clenched my teeth (relaxed jaw, what's that?) like I was holding on for dear life. I crossed the finish line feeling like I was going to vomit. Each subsequent recovery involved more walking, and each round left me feeling like I had nothing left in the tank. By the fourth and final repeat, I was tired but felt great, knowing I had finished a grueling workout. And I didn't have to crawl to the end.
Miles: 3, 0.5 warmup, 2 miles of
Interval, 0.75 cooldown
Times:
Saturday's long run
I had every intention of running on Thursday, but I ended up going home early feeling sick. Friday was no better, and I got so little sleep that night, I wasn't sure I'd make it Saturday. But I wanted to get an 8-miler in before hood to Coast, and Saturday would be the best day to do it.
Sonja wanted to switch it up from our usual Forest Park runs. Since one of her legs is flat, we met up at the Waterfront. She and Amois planned to do 11, but I didn't feel up for that much running. Thankfully, we kept a slow enough pace (we had a new mama join us, and we wanted to stay together), that I felt ok for most of the run. But somewhere between 6 and 7 miles I started feeling hotter and more tired than normal, especially given our pace.
I held on to the end, but, admittedly, I was disappointed with our time and how I felt. I knew it was because I was under the weather, but that didn't console me in the slightest. It turns out I started feeling worse as the weekend progressed. I had hoped to run Sunday morning, but I had another night of crappy sleep, and I couldn't get myself out of bed...all day. It might have been the run, but I know that if I hadn't gone, I'd have been just as frustrated, if not more.
Miles: 8.5
Time: 1 hr 26 min
The sun finally came out on Monday morning, so I took the opportunity to pound out a track workout. I hadn't ran straight 800s in awhile, and recalling a Runner's World article on Yasso 800s, I was curious to see where I currently stood and what might be possible for this year's half marathon races I have lined up. 10 intervals seemed too much to me at this point in my training, so I opted for 6, which would give me 3 solid interval miles.
I didn't have time to properly warm up, and while my legs felt ok the rest of me was feeling a little bleh. I started off my first lap conservatively. I fell into a stride that was comfortable for my legs and challenging for my lungs. I worried it was on the slow side but I kept at it, afraid that if I sped up I'd crash before finishing my workout. I clocked my first repeat at 4:07. Each subsequent repeat required more effort, but I ran each one in less than 4 minutes. And after each recovery, I felt like I could hammer out another one. When I finished the 5th repeat, the fastest one of the set, I wasn't sure if I'd run the last one as fast or as strong. But I wanted to finish strong, so I did something I always do when I struggle through a workout: I bargained with myself. Initially, I told myself to run just one lap at what felt like a comfortable pace. When I clocked it at two minutes, my initial thought was, "Wow, 8:00 min/mile is actually fairly comfortable" so I kept going to finish out the full repeat.. I clocked the final 800 at 3:59.
Five 800s, each less than 4 minutes. If I ran 5 more like that, then according to Mr. Yasso, I'd be on track for a 4-hour marathon, something I've never come close to. I don't plan on running any marathons in the near future, but this got me to thinking that maybe, if I work hard enough, I can break 2 hours in a half marathon this year. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
A thirty-something running mama in Portland, OR, who finds sanity in lacing up her Nikes, enjoys the challenge that running and racing brings, but doesn't run very fast. I try to improve my speed with each race, and I share my efforts here.
A thirty-something running mama in Portland, OR, who finds sanity in lacing up her Nikes, enjoys the challenge that running and racing brings, but doesn't run very fast. I try to improve my speed with each race, and I share my efforts here.
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