Because I go to a school that is on the semester schedule instead of the quarter schedule, I have a full month off for winter break. I have a lot of free time.
A. Lot.
The first 2 weeks were great, I honestly needed the break after a long XC season followed shortly by finals.
The past week has gone by like a crawl. With nothing to do, I busy myself with menial tasks, reading, cleaning up randomly, and training.
....And training
.........And training.
As I stepped out of my warm house into the bleak Seattle winter, I was reminded of the deep deep pain that surfaced in my legs last week. The Pain returned, just in time for me to finish my winter base - how nice.
I start on my 9 mile loop to do my Fartlek, one that I have done every week without fail. I use the most familiar path. I, for one, do not like surprises when I'm tired. I'd rather stick to my routine. My legs hurt enough without an unexpected hill, up OR down on the middle of a repetition as I churn along to the beat of 5min pace.
The gun metal gray sky encompasses my vision in a bleak embrace. The road is wet from the rain, and all I hear are my footsteps marching to the rhythm of my heartbeat. They go faster, my heart goes faster. They go slower, my heart goes slower.
Miles shed behind me like I'm peeling a potato, working hard only to find the middle is also as unsightly as the skin.
The long winding path which I have chosen deceives me, I feel like I'm barely moving. This run will never end i'm walking why is my heart rate over 170 I can feel it beating whats going on
My sanity is saved by my garmin, which tells me that yes, I am moving, and yes, it is under 6min pace. Well under.
I take a right turn and my shoe gets stuck in the muck and comes off. I put it back on. I take a left turn and the road is blocked. I climb stair after stair to get around it.
The road dips down, and I fall, fall for a mile. I can see my house, and the darkness of the Seattle night is already dimming the streets. It's 4pm.
As I step out of the shower, I think "that was a pretty typical run I guess"
I'm trapped in January, the gun-metal gray sky awaiting me tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day.
And the next day after that.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Paradox of Fitness
Runners count their stepping stones by mileage. It's nearly always been done this way. If I run 70 miles a week, that's better than running 60 miles a week. Period.
But as I get fitter, I've realized something interesting. My base runs have gotten faster, so 8 miles takes me between 46-51min on average, whereas over summer it took me 54-55.
I compared a 60 mile week from winter to a 60 mile week from summer, and the physical time I spent running during winter was about a full 50 MINUTES less than summer. On a particularly down week when I wasn't feeling great over summer, I ran nearly a min slower per mile than I do now.
Interestingly, this means that while I am running more mileage, I am actually running LESS or at the very least THE SAME amount as I was, despite my increase in mileage.
Seb Coe, on of the greatest mid distance runners of all time, stressed quality over quantity. He said even during his heaviest base he never ran more than 70 miles a week, and usually ran 55-60. Being generous, lets say his base runs were at 5:20 pace (they were probably faster). That means that an 8mile run takes him all of 43ish minutes.
Overall, Seb actually ran over an hour less than the average 4:30 miler would run, doing the same amount of miles in a week.
The phenomenon of high mileage needs to be put into perspective. While my mileage may "jump" the next time I go through my base phase, the perspective needed is not the amount of miles covered, but the TIME RAN in total.
There's really nothing else to this, but it is something to keep in mind when you hear elite athletes running 100 miles a week, because it's basically like you running 65-70. They're that much better.
Still though, if I can get to a point where 100 miles a week takes as long as, say, 85 miles used to, that would be pretty sweet.
Time is a far better measure than miles, but miles sure do make you feel more accomplished than the unforgiving clock.
But as I get fitter, I've realized something interesting. My base runs have gotten faster, so 8 miles takes me between 46-51min on average, whereas over summer it took me 54-55.
I compared a 60 mile week from winter to a 60 mile week from summer, and the physical time I spent running during winter was about a full 50 MINUTES less than summer. On a particularly down week when I wasn't feeling great over summer, I ran nearly a min slower per mile than I do now.
Interestingly, this means that while I am running more mileage, I am actually running LESS or at the very least THE SAME amount as I was, despite my increase in mileage.
Seb Coe, on of the greatest mid distance runners of all time, stressed quality over quantity. He said even during his heaviest base he never ran more than 70 miles a week, and usually ran 55-60. Being generous, lets say his base runs were at 5:20 pace (they were probably faster). That means that an 8mile run takes him all of 43ish minutes.
Overall, Seb actually ran over an hour less than the average 4:30 miler would run, doing the same amount of miles in a week.
The phenomenon of high mileage needs to be put into perspective. While my mileage may "jump" the next time I go through my base phase, the perspective needed is not the amount of miles covered, but the TIME RAN in total.
There's really nothing else to this, but it is something to keep in mind when you hear elite athletes running 100 miles a week, because it's basically like you running 65-70. They're that much better.
Still though, if I can get to a point where 100 miles a week takes as long as, say, 85 miles used to, that would be pretty sweet.
Time is a far better measure than miles, but miles sure do make you feel more accomplished than the unforgiving clock.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Long Run
As a runner, one of my biggest weaknesses has been handling the long run well. In high school I ran very little mileage and very high intensity, so naturally a long run at a moderate/easy pace would be my problem.
Over summer I dreaded the long sundays, the 12-15miles whose only purpose is to run 7-8 miles after the first 5-6 drain your initial 2 energy systems. The long miles always destroyed me for the rest of the day, with the long run often immediately followed by a feeling-sorry-for-myself type nap.
But, that was 6 months ago. Over time, and the miles added up one by one, ten by ten, seventy-five by seventy-five. Over and over my legs pounded the unforgiving pavement, and eventually the long run pain started to fade.
Fast forward to January 1st, the first run and coincidentally first long run of the new year. An equally talented friend comes over to my house to do the long run together, because the half-marathon (& change) route which we are to take is mindnumbing alone and we slog mile after mile across the northwest hills.
Barely a word is shared as we begin. We've ran together so long, everything that has needed to be said has been said. Every philosophy I have he knows, every training principle he has I know.
The symphony of footsteps is simply soothing, as a voice in the back of my head says without words you are not alone
I intentionally leave my Garmin watch behind. The high-tech supercomputer, connected to 3 satellites that constantly triangulates my position within 5 meters tells me my pace too much, and I will be too tempted. I know exactly how long this run is, I've done it an innumerable amount of times.
So, all I have is a watch that can only tell time and run a stopwatch, which is all I need. The clock will run as we tread lightly. The long run is about heart rate, which means that the clock doesn't matter, as long as it runs for a long. time.
We pass familiar streets, focusing on staying loose on the crisp 30 degree morning. Because I've run this route so many times, I have certain benchmarks in my head. Though I don't know exactly how fast or slow we're running, the time seems quick as mile and mile roll behind us.
I cast it off as possible misinterpretation. I don't REALLY know how far we've gone.
But as we get longer and longer, I become sure. I feel fine, he seems fine, but the time is pretty quick. Really quick for a long run.
We pass the half-marathon mark, the only landmark that I have tried to memorize as we close down on the last mile. 1:24:02.
What? That means that we've been running the last 13.1 miles at 6:24 pace rolling along these northwest hills without a second thought.
After the run we share confusion. We've never run within 9 minutes of that time on this run. It is legitimately a very tough run.
We continue to talk about it, and he says something profound:
Could....we....be....getting...faster?
We just blew the tubes out on a very long run at a very fast pace for my low heart rate.
And truth be told, I feel fine. Just fine.
----Quenton Cassidy
Over summer I dreaded the long sundays, the 12-15miles whose only purpose is to run 7-8 miles after the first 5-6 drain your initial 2 energy systems. The long miles always destroyed me for the rest of the day, with the long run often immediately followed by a feeling-sorry-for-myself type nap.
But, that was 6 months ago. Over time, and the miles added up one by one, ten by ten, seventy-five by seventy-five. Over and over my legs pounded the unforgiving pavement, and eventually the long run pain started to fade.
Fast forward to January 1st, the first run and coincidentally first long run of the new year. An equally talented friend comes over to my house to do the long run together, because the half-marathon (& change) route which we are to take is mindnumbing alone and we slog mile after mile across the northwest hills.
Barely a word is shared as we begin. We've ran together so long, everything that has needed to be said has been said. Every philosophy I have he knows, every training principle he has I know.
The symphony of footsteps is simply soothing, as a voice in the back of my head says without words you are not alone
I intentionally leave my Garmin watch behind. The high-tech supercomputer, connected to 3 satellites that constantly triangulates my position within 5 meters tells me my pace too much, and I will be too tempted. I know exactly how long this run is, I've done it an innumerable amount of times.
So, all I have is a watch that can only tell time and run a stopwatch, which is all I need. The clock will run as we tread lightly. The long run is about heart rate, which means that the clock doesn't matter, as long as it runs for a long. time.
We pass familiar streets, focusing on staying loose on the crisp 30 degree morning. Because I've run this route so many times, I have certain benchmarks in my head. Though I don't know exactly how fast or slow we're running, the time seems quick as mile and mile roll behind us.
I cast it off as possible misinterpretation. I don't REALLY know how far we've gone.
But as we get longer and longer, I become sure. I feel fine, he seems fine, but the time is pretty quick. Really quick for a long run.
We pass the half-marathon mark, the only landmark that I have tried to memorize as we close down on the last mile. 1:24:02.
What? That means that we've been running the last 13.1 miles at 6:24 pace rolling along these northwest hills without a second thought.
After the run we share confusion. We've never run within 9 minutes of that time on this run. It is legitimately a very tough run.
We continue to talk about it, and he says something profound:
Could....we....be....getting...faster?
We just blew the tubes out on a very long run at a very fast pace for my low heart rate.
And truth be told, I feel fine. Just fine.
----Quenton Cassidy
Monday, December 6, 2010
The SoCal Winter Night
Once a week at this point in the season, I hop onto the track to do some hard speed, but nothing more than 6 reps and nothing over 300m. Working my way back into it. Usually distance runners do hills, but I've never been a fan.
Tonight, it was 2x(300,200,150), going 41-26-18/42-27-19
Speed yes, Speed endurance no.
I jog around in the dark catching my breath, catching my stride. This cool night tips 50 degrees at most. Perfect.
My mind starts to wander, to think about the repressed track glory held inside throughout cross country.
I think about what I can do in this workout in March.
I think about the possibility of winning the alumi 1000m loop potentially 4 times.
I think about running 3:54 and hitting the NCAA provisional standard.
I think about running 3:48 and breaking the school record.
I think about getting hurt and running 4:05.
I think about Icing after this workout.
I think about my form, and how it needs to be fixed.
I think about my plan for the winter, and how it needs to be fixed.
I remember winning.
I remember the feeling of passing people like they're standing still.
I remember getting passed like I was standing still.
But mostly, I remember racing. That feeling with 600m to go when you know you're in it, and you don't know who feels good, but you know you do.
I have a distinct memory of every race I've ever won. Coming off of the turn to see the line. pushing, pushing, pushing.
Not knowing whether or not you're going to get caught, if you can hold on, if you can win.
Not knowing what you are capable of.
I remember the workouts being hard, but I don't really remember them in detail.
I remember racing.
I remember staring at my Victories as they edge the line. My heart rate drops into my stomach. I'm nervous. I'm worried. I'm shaking. The gun goes. I'm running, and I always settle. Always.
I honestly believe that I will run anywhere from 3:50 to 3:54 this season, and I can't see a damn reason why not.
Tonight, it was 2x(300,200,150), going 41-26-18/42-27-19
Speed yes, Speed endurance no.
I jog around in the dark catching my breath, catching my stride. This cool night tips 50 degrees at most. Perfect.
My mind starts to wander, to think about the repressed track glory held inside throughout cross country.
I think about what I can do in this workout in March.
I think about the possibility of winning the alumi 1000m loop potentially 4 times.
I think about running 3:54 and hitting the NCAA provisional standard.
I think about running 3:48 and breaking the school record.
I think about getting hurt and running 4:05.
I think about Icing after this workout.
I think about my form, and how it needs to be fixed.
I think about my plan for the winter, and how it needs to be fixed.
I remember winning.
I remember the feeling of passing people like they're standing still.
I remember getting passed like I was standing still.
But mostly, I remember racing. That feeling with 600m to go when you know you're in it, and you don't know who feels good, but you know you do.
I have a distinct memory of every race I've ever won. Coming off of the turn to see the line. pushing, pushing, pushing.
Not knowing whether or not you're going to get caught, if you can hold on, if you can win.
Not knowing what you are capable of.
I remember the workouts being hard, but I don't really remember them in detail.
I remember racing.
I remember staring at my Victories as they edge the line. My heart rate drops into my stomach. I'm nervous. I'm worried. I'm shaking. The gun goes. I'm running, and I always settle. Always.
I honestly believe that I will run anywhere from 3:50 to 3:54 this season, and I can't see a damn reason why not.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Phase 2: Strength
After XC I have a lot of base. A lot.
Now I need to shift into strength work, to get pure power up, and start turning over, which still retaining my mileage.
This is my fairly certain schedule, which I had to extend to 8 days, because the model of whom I was using is a 1:46 800m runner, and I can't recover as fast as he can, so I added Day 2 below whereas he doesn't have it.
I also tweaked my original model after I talked with coach, and now this is what my next 6-8 weeks will look like, starting tomorrow:
Day 1: AM Base
PM Short Speed (150m-300m), long recovery. Cut downs. Give the legs time.
Day 2: Base + Circuits (haven't written circuit schedule, will add when I finish)
Day 3: (AM optional shakeout)
Aerobic Threshold work, aka fartlek, mile repeats, etc.
Day 4: Base + Circuits
Day 5: AM Tempo. 4-5miles
PM Shake out
Day 6: Base + Weights. Focus on explosiveness.
Day 7: Long(er) Speed Ladder. Either up or down from 200-1600m.
Day 8: LSD.
As you can see, I have an extra day than there are days in a week. Don't worry, IT'S OKAY.
This training schedule is pretty brutal. But dammit, I wrote it, and spent a while debating over it.
I think I can handle it. Maybe not. We'll see.
Likely Combined Distance: 55-65 depending on if the week has the LSD or not.
Solid.
Now I need to shift into strength work, to get pure power up, and start turning over, which still retaining my mileage.
This is my fairly certain schedule, which I had to extend to 8 days, because the model of whom I was using is a 1:46 800m runner, and I can't recover as fast as he can, so I added Day 2 below whereas he doesn't have it.
I also tweaked my original model after I talked with coach, and now this is what my next 6-8 weeks will look like, starting tomorrow:
Day 1: AM Base
PM Short Speed (150m-300m), long recovery. Cut downs. Give the legs time.
Day 2: Base + Circuits (haven't written circuit schedule, will add when I finish)
Day 3: (AM optional shakeout)
Aerobic Threshold work, aka fartlek, mile repeats, etc.
Day 4: Base + Circuits
Day 5: AM Tempo. 4-5miles
PM Shake out
Day 6: Base + Weights. Focus on explosiveness.
Day 7: Long(er) Speed Ladder. Either up or down from 200-1600m.
Day 8: LSD.
As you can see, I have an extra day than there are days in a week. Don't worry, IT'S OKAY.
This training schedule is pretty brutal. But dammit, I wrote it, and spent a while debating over it.
I think I can handle it. Maybe not. We'll see.
Likely Combined Distance: 55-65 depending on if the week has the LSD or not.
Solid.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Nationals and the Midnight Mile
Even though I’m replaced, I’m still better in this current state than anyone but the newly crowned top7. So, coach keeps my ticket and I’m off to Waverly, Iowa for Nationals. If someone gets sick, breaks their leg, etc, I’m in.
My legs are an insurance policy for a disaster, so as far as I’m concerned I can just enjoy the ride and stay fresh in case of a random occurrence of failure.
The trip is fun. If there’s anyone who can enjoy a well-run and talent-filled meet, it’s me. I eat this shit up every day, so nothing is better than seeing it in person.
The guys run solid, but not spectacular. Bennett runs the best, hands down. Good choice on coach’s part. Despite that, he gets ~180th/290 runners. If I had a great day, I would’ve been right with him. It’s a humbling experience for sure.
19th as a team / 32. Top20 in the country sounds better.
The girls are the same, except our #1 girl Jenn who gets 7th. 7th! Can you believe that? Ridiculous. She has one more year too. We may be looking at a national champ. She’s tough as nails, if there’s anyone I would peg to do it in track or cross, it’s her. Maybe the 10k on the track would suit her better, I don’t know. We’ll see.
20th as a team / 32. Top 20 in the country definitely sounds better.
After the long, fun weekend we come back and that’s it. Cross Country is over for another year. As my teammates who didn’t run past the conference meet start running again, and the top guys take some well earned time off, they slowly start fixing their eyes on track.
I’m already there.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of racing cross country. But it doesn’t even come close to how I feel about racing track. It’s pure, it’s fast, and it’s just. plain. fucking. awesome. I could talk all day about it so I’ll leave it at that.
After the Nationals meet the conference gets together at Occidentals track to run a midnight mile. It’s just what it sounds like. An all-out, no holds barred, mile that starts at the stroke of midnight. I’m thinking anything under 4:25/6 would be a success.
I run 4:20 with erratic splits of 63-67-68-62, and almost win the damn thing.
I meet with coach the following day, and we talk about this upcoming track season. We argue about the which direction to go, he listens and modifies what I say. I do the same.
A tentative schedule is set. A little deviant from the norm, but hey, there is no one-size-fits-all in running. The only thing that we agree on fully is that proper mileage is very important, and that I can’t be 178 lbs again. Stick to the 160 I am now.
He also tells me that if I don’t run under 3:55 in the 1500m this spring that we’ve done something wrong.
And we lay out a long term plan to run well under 3:50. We conclude that my speed is almost right to do it, but my endurance is not.
“You have to be able to run all of these: 49 400m, 1:51 800m, and sub25 8k XC. When you do that, you can do it.”
I’ve developed a very solid base under me, and now its time to carry it for a few more months as I gradually shift to speed.
I’ll post my workout schedule when It’s ready.
Like and plan, it has to be carefully planned, edited, and sent to the higher-ups for proofreading.
But man, when I slipped those Nike Victories (my favorite track spikes) on for the first time since May, I couldn’t help but smile.
Here we go.
My legs are an insurance policy for a disaster, so as far as I’m concerned I can just enjoy the ride and stay fresh in case of a random occurrence of failure.
The trip is fun. If there’s anyone who can enjoy a well-run and talent-filled meet, it’s me. I eat this shit up every day, so nothing is better than seeing it in person.
The guys run solid, but not spectacular. Bennett runs the best, hands down. Good choice on coach’s part. Despite that, he gets ~180th/290 runners. If I had a great day, I would’ve been right with him. It’s a humbling experience for sure.
19th as a team / 32. Top20 in the country sounds better.
The girls are the same, except our #1 girl Jenn who gets 7th. 7th! Can you believe that? Ridiculous. She has one more year too. We may be looking at a national champ. She’s tough as nails, if there’s anyone I would peg to do it in track or cross, it’s her. Maybe the 10k on the track would suit her better, I don’t know. We’ll see.
20th as a team / 32. Top 20 in the country definitely sounds better.
After the long, fun weekend we come back and that’s it. Cross Country is over for another year. As my teammates who didn’t run past the conference meet start running again, and the top guys take some well earned time off, they slowly start fixing their eyes on track.
I’m already there.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of racing cross country. But it doesn’t even come close to how I feel about racing track. It’s pure, it’s fast, and it’s just. plain. fucking. awesome. I could talk all day about it so I’ll leave it at that.
After the Nationals meet the conference gets together at Occidentals track to run a midnight mile. It’s just what it sounds like. An all-out, no holds barred, mile that starts at the stroke of midnight. I’m thinking anything under 4:25/6 would be a success.
I run 4:20 with erratic splits of 63-67-68-62, and almost win the damn thing.
I meet with coach the following day, and we talk about this upcoming track season. We argue about the which direction to go, he listens and modifies what I say. I do the same.
A tentative schedule is set. A little deviant from the norm, but hey, there is no one-size-fits-all in running. The only thing that we agree on fully is that proper mileage is very important, and that I can’t be 178 lbs again. Stick to the 160 I am now.
He also tells me that if I don’t run under 3:55 in the 1500m this spring that we’ve done something wrong.
And we lay out a long term plan to run well under 3:50. We conclude that my speed is almost right to do it, but my endurance is not.
“You have to be able to run all of these: 49 400m, 1:51 800m, and sub25 8k XC. When you do that, you can do it.”
I’ve developed a very solid base under me, and now its time to carry it for a few more months as I gradually shift to speed.
I’ll post my workout schedule when It’s ready.
Like and plan, it has to be carefully planned, edited, and sent to the higher-ups for proofreading.
But man, when I slipped those Nike Victories (my favorite track spikes) on for the first time since May, I couldn’t help but smile.
Here we go.
Gambling with my Body
Workouts and runs the days following the Conference meet had been going poorly. I hit all the times I was supposed to, and run the times I was supposed to, but it was far harder than it should have been.
Only 3 weeks ago what was and felt like 5:30 pace on a grass-laden tempo run, today still is 5:30 pace but feels like 5:00 pace. Base runs at 6:20 pace that previously had my heart beating around 150-160 are now creeping into the 170-180 range.
Then the Regional happened.
The strength of CMS XC is in our depth.
Coach pulls me aside with our #8 runner, who has been running phenomenally.
I am in a dream. He puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me that I had a good run at it, but he can see I’m falling apart. I’m out. Bennett is in. Good season.
It makes sense, really. Bennett and I are fairly comparable runners over 8k XC. This year, I’ve beaten him four times, and he’s beaten me twice. Yet every race, we’re never more than 30 seconds apart, and usually we’re within 15.
I talked earlier about my summer, and how fully committing myself to running by adding another 200 miles to my summer paid off for me.
Well, this is the gamble that I made. A gamble with my body.
Interesting things happen when you run more miles. A lot more miles.
The body oscillates between extreme highs and extreme lows. It’s a phenomenon often called “breaking down.” The body gets torn apart, ripped to pieces, and does everything it can to tell you that what you’re doing to it is hurting it.
However, if you keep pushing the envelope, it shrugs, and begins to find new means of compensation. It makes more mitochondria. It uses lactic acid to close the micro-tears created by incessant pounding in the legs, and redoubles the strength. So that next time it wont hurt so bad.
And you get fast. Real fast.
But this is a gamble, because this extra pushing can cause injury, or burn out.
Or it can just have poor timing.
It’s a wheel of fatigue, half painted red and half painted green. The training spins the wheel, and when it’s on green all systems are firing. You drop your 8k from a 26:59 to a 25:54. You run a 4.35m time trial 80seconds faster than you ever have before. You run 12 x 1000m 6-7 seconds faster than you ever have before.
But the wheel keeps tuning as you keep pushing, never satisfied. Always wanting that much more. That faster time. That better place.
The less you increase your milage, the less discrepancy there is between red and green times, places, etc. Staying the same also means you’re stuck in mediocrity, and god dammit I run to be everything but mediocre.
Then the wheel turns red, and you start to falter. The season is long, and the workouts push the wheel faster and faster. You’re deep in the red now. That same 4.35m time trial is now oddly 40seconds slower. That 8k time starts to creep back up towards times you thought you’d never run again.
And you get 50th at Regionals.
It makes sense, really, what Coach is doing. I’m deep in the red, and Bennett is flying in the green.
What really bothers me, is that in 2-3 weeks, I’ll probably be in the green again.
But by then, Nationals will be over, and my chance will be, is now, and will burn into my memory as -
Gone.
Only 3 weeks ago what was and felt like 5:30 pace on a grass-laden tempo run, today still is 5:30 pace but feels like 5:00 pace. Base runs at 6:20 pace that previously had my heart beating around 150-160 are now creeping into the 170-180 range.
Then the Regional happened.
The strength of CMS XC is in our depth.
Coach pulls me aside with our #8 runner, who has been running phenomenally.
I am in a dream. He puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me that I had a good run at it, but he can see I’m falling apart. I’m out. Bennett is in. Good season.
It makes sense, really. Bennett and I are fairly comparable runners over 8k XC. This year, I’ve beaten him four times, and he’s beaten me twice. Yet every race, we’re never more than 30 seconds apart, and usually we’re within 15.
I talked earlier about my summer, and how fully committing myself to running by adding another 200 miles to my summer paid off for me.
Well, this is the gamble that I made. A gamble with my body.
Interesting things happen when you run more miles. A lot more miles.
The body oscillates between extreme highs and extreme lows. It’s a phenomenon often called “breaking down.” The body gets torn apart, ripped to pieces, and does everything it can to tell you that what you’re doing to it is hurting it.
However, if you keep pushing the envelope, it shrugs, and begins to find new means of compensation. It makes more mitochondria. It uses lactic acid to close the micro-tears created by incessant pounding in the legs, and redoubles the strength. So that next time it wont hurt so bad.
And you get fast. Real fast.
But this is a gamble, because this extra pushing can cause injury, or burn out.
Or it can just have poor timing.
It’s a wheel of fatigue, half painted red and half painted green. The training spins the wheel, and when it’s on green all systems are firing. You drop your 8k from a 26:59 to a 25:54. You run a 4.35m time trial 80seconds faster than you ever have before. You run 12 x 1000m 6-7 seconds faster than you ever have before.
But the wheel keeps tuning as you keep pushing, never satisfied. Always wanting that much more. That faster time. That better place.
The less you increase your milage, the less discrepancy there is between red and green times, places, etc. Staying the same also means you’re stuck in mediocrity, and god dammit I run to be everything but mediocre.
Then the wheel turns red, and you start to falter. The season is long, and the workouts push the wheel faster and faster. You’re deep in the red now. That same 4.35m time trial is now oddly 40seconds slower. That 8k time starts to creep back up towards times you thought you’d never run again.
And you get 50th at Regionals.
It makes sense, really, what Coach is doing. I’m deep in the red, and Bennett is flying in the green.
What really bothers me, is that in 2-3 weeks, I’ll probably be in the green again.
But by then, Nationals will be over, and my chance will be, is now, and will burn into my memory as -
Gone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)