Speed Work, aka Track Crack

On schedule: 8 x 400m @ 5k pace

Goal pace: 1:40 - 1:45 (pace: 6:30 - 7:00) [note: this is totally not my 5k pace. It's my goal 5k pace. My fantasy goal. In that "possibly not physically capable of running that fast for that far" way.]

Actual times: 1:24 (whoops), 1:33, 1:33, 1:32, 1:34, 1:35, 1:34, 1:32



Oh, whoops, I forgot this was a blog. Value me by the amount of real estate between my thighs.



I could feel it pretty well in my lungs. I did a recover lap in between each awful lap. The recovery laps got slower and slower. But, that wasn't the important part. While I did not look forward to any of the sprints, I didn't really want to quit, either. So I guess that's good. I didn't know what to expect and I didn't know what I was doing. That's half the fun of it, right?

By the time I was done I had that face tingling kind-of-stupid-in-the-head feeling I get when I work really hard. It was a fun feeling, as long as I kept myself from walking in to traffic as I walked back to the car.

By the time I got home I felt full on stupid. I stumbled into the shower and washed away the dumb. I don't quite know how that works, but that's how it happened.

I'm not sure how I should feel after sprints. Should they slay me like a sore dragon? Should I feel totally spent? How much should I have left in the tank? I'm not running the sprints at 100%. I'm not supposed to be. But am I going too hard?

I don't know. I've never successfully trained for just running before.

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I skipped my trainer session on Tuesday because I was feeling sick and my trainer didn't want me licking all the weights and getting him sick. So I sat around and had Pho and whined instead.

I felt sick most of yesterday. Still had a sore throat. Still lethargic. But less so than Tuesday, otherwise I wouldn't have hit the track.

By the time I was done on the track I had forgotten I was sick. Score.

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My mom was here for the weekend, which was awesome, as usual. I got asked on a date while I was at the track. I am the latest convert to Draw Something, and am constantly amazed that people have any fucking clue what I'm drawing. Once I thought I picked the word "bear," so I started drawing, but then I realized I had accidentally clicked on the word "conan" so I just scrawled "fuck it I picked the wrong word. CONAN." Yeah. I'm just that good.

To prove I'm not the only rondo one in the family, my brother snorts water. Because he can?