The Typical Day: Run, Puke, Rally

It was hot today. Too hot. Upper 80's at least. The workout was hard, 6x400 @ 60s, followed by 2 sets of 4x200 untimed but quick. The goal for the 200's was to run "comfortably fast."

We got a lot of rest on the 400's, about 3min, but each one was exponentially harder than the one before it due to how quick they were.

It was hot today. Too hot. After 4 my head was swooning, and I could feel my feet blistering as I pumped hard to get around the turns. I would try to go through the 200 in 29.mid so that I had some buffer for the second 200. On the 5th one, I went through right at 31.0, and my heart sank. No one likes to try and negative split workouts. I hit it though. I always hit it.

Coaches are cruel, they give you splits based off of years of experience, splits they know you can hit, but ones that you have to bust your balls to hit. They are meticulous. Cruel and meticulous (These thoughts always go through my head around the 300m mark, oddly complaining about coaches who are TOO good, know the body TOO well, and know what I am capable of probably better than I do).

It was hot today. Too hot. After the 6th rep of 400, I stumbled forward, trying to catch myself so that I wouldn't crumple. I spent a little too long with my hands on my knees, and I knew immediately as I stood up that I was going to vomit. Soon. Very soon. Very ve-.....too late. I barely made it to the bushes before I turned the lush green the color of my lunch. It's really a shame, I liked my lunch today. At least I missed my Lunas.

I shuffled around for 5min, the amount of rest we get between intervals, wishing I could run 4flat for the mile, so this shit would be easier. I wonder if it is, or if it gets harder as you get better? I guess there's only one way to find out.

It was hot today. Too hot. The combination of the heat and my unfortunate yakking made me very dehydrated, and being an idiot I drank a shitload of water on my rest between the 400's and the 200's. Even though the 200's couldn't have been much faster than the 400's pace was, dear god it hurt. I finished the 200's feeling like a drunk person driving faster than they should, and I definitely clipped the bar on the inside of the track more than once.

After that, and weights, I took an ice bath, stretched, and headed off to dinner with the team. After dinner we went our separate ways to our dorm, and I realized that we have the same routine every workout day, and that as hard as today was, it was just another normal day.

Run, puke, and rally. The name of the game is Pain, and the call and response between body and time leaves the runner cut out of fucking STONE.

It was hot today. Too hot.