I'm starting to get the hang of the pop in my legs. We've put the training-through phase on hold for a moment as we grapple for a few good times at Oxy Distance Carnival and Cal/Nevada Championships.
After a couple of 800s in 1:56.0 and 1:56.4 respectively, plus a couple of insanely harsh workouts, my speed is starting to develop into what I'm wanting to to. I still have a ways to go, but 26s 200s feel comfortable, and that is a step in the right direction.
Yesterday was a good indicator. A staple workout we have is called the '500 breakdown.' It goes 500-400-300, 7min recovery. All out. That's it. Sounds easy? It's ridiculously hard. You're essentially in three separate races. Against your teammates. Against yourself. Against the clock.
I usually lead the first 200m of most reps, simply because the other guys aren't the best pacers in the world. But this workout isn't about pace, you just go all out.
15min warmup, then spike up.
The long warmup gives us time to feel out our muscles after spring break. We've had a pretty easy last couple of days, so everyone should feel good. At least to some degree.
On the line for the 500, the mood is a little tense. Everyone knows how much this workout hurts.
As we fly around the turn and down the backstretch, I settle in. 200m passed in 26.low. Nothing I haven't done before.
Coming around the turn for the home straight I feel good. I have another gear. Lets use it
I change gears and pass the 400m mark in 53.5. 67 for the 500.
7min of sauntering about, trying to stay loose before the hamstrings lock up and stay that way.
400m - 54/55
7min of stumbling about, trying to get rid of the locked hamstrings.
Final 100m of the 300, and everyone is in their own world. The Pain has shifted to track mode. Unquestionably, unequivocally, track mode.
The next 45min are a daze. Runners are strewn about the track premises, throwing up, shuffle jogging, clutching their sides, legs, head, the grass. We are a mess.
But the speed pays off. How much can a race hurt when you hurt this much in practice?
Let me tell you,
not as much.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Training Through.
The biggest difference between high school and college for me is the training method known as "training through."
Basically, you disregard running well on a random Saturday meet in order to get an extra hard day or two of training in that week. Repeat this for 10 weeks and you probably are a bit stronger than you would've been had you taken that day easy.
The thing is, this means you run pretty poorly in races, because your legs are toast at the starting line.
This week was a perfect example. Tuesday was one of the hardest speed workouts I've ever done, wednesday was a typical base run, which allowed us to recover for thursday - a long interval workout with little rest inbetween. This made us tired for friday, which was another typical base EXCEPT this time we were lucky enough to have a 2mile tempo in the middle of it.
Flash forward to saturday, and I'm struggling with my warm up.
Not exactly what I would call pleasant.
The race was odd, because I was aerobically walking, but anaerobically obliterated. I kept looking down thinking - "come on legs do something." but nothing came.
I understand this process, I've seen it work wonders. And, god willing, it probably will for me too. But it's not the feel-good challenge that you are used to.
I love racing, toeing the line even with my competitors and putting it all out there. But that's the thing - when we do stuff like this, it's frustrating because I know that if I had taken the last couple days easy I would've stomped them. I ran about 8 seconds slower than I'm currently capable of, and that is fucking infuriating.
But I know that eventually I'll feel good, and I'll get a shot at doing what I do best.
Racing fresh.
It's just making sure I can survive the path there that's the problem.
Basically, you disregard running well on a random Saturday meet in order to get an extra hard day or two of training in that week. Repeat this for 10 weeks and you probably are a bit stronger than you would've been had you taken that day easy.
The thing is, this means you run pretty poorly in races, because your legs are toast at the starting line.
This week was a perfect example. Tuesday was one of the hardest speed workouts I've ever done, wednesday was a typical base run, which allowed us to recover for thursday - a long interval workout with little rest inbetween. This made us tired for friday, which was another typical base EXCEPT this time we were lucky enough to have a 2mile tempo in the middle of it.
Flash forward to saturday, and I'm struggling with my warm up.
Not exactly what I would call pleasant.
The race was odd, because I was aerobically walking, but anaerobically obliterated. I kept looking down thinking - "come on legs do something." but nothing came.
I understand this process, I've seen it work wonders. And, god willing, it probably will for me too. But it's not the feel-good challenge that you are used to.
I love racing, toeing the line even with my competitors and putting it all out there. But that's the thing - when we do stuff like this, it's frustrating because I know that if I had taken the last couple days easy I would've stomped them. I ran about 8 seconds slower than I'm currently capable of, and that is fucking infuriating.
But I know that eventually I'll feel good, and I'll get a shot at doing what I do best.
Racing fresh.
It's just making sure I can survive the path there that's the problem.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Library
There is a phenomenon I've been noticing on the track lately. I call it The Library.
It's fairly rare, maybe once every two weeks or so, but when it happens it's impossible to miss.
The entire team is running threshold intervals, and they are on the shorter side. 600m on the high end.
This is a time where everyone is focused inward, as the pace given is going to be far from a cakewalk. Around and around the symphonic beats strike to a different rhythm but to the same tune. As the line is crossed, the repetition ends and slowly the lone runners come together in groups and pairs to jog around the infield in between sets, keeping the legs warm. Twos and threes, sometimes fours and fives but never more than five. The infield is alive with the slow, recovering pace of weary footprints.
And everything is silent.
There's really nothing to talk about. A grunt of disdain, barely audible creeps it way out of those who are having a worse day than others. A hushed whisper between a pair on the other side of the field is completely inaudible to everyone else. Never intentionally - simply for lack of air.
There's really nothing to talk about. Everyone has been here countless hours, preparing for some far off test. Communication isn't necessary, and simply takes the mind off of the task at hand. What is important is focusing on yourself recovering, preparing, staying loose, and staying confident. positive. hopeful.
So we circle the field as a collective family of 50, stumbling along like lethargic ants in chaos; everything silent.
Because there's really nothing to talk about.
It's fairly rare, maybe once every two weeks or so, but when it happens it's impossible to miss.
The entire team is running threshold intervals, and they are on the shorter side. 600m on the high end.
This is a time where everyone is focused inward, as the pace given is going to be far from a cakewalk. Around and around the symphonic beats strike to a different rhythm but to the same tune. As the line is crossed, the repetition ends and slowly the lone runners come together in groups and pairs to jog around the infield in between sets, keeping the legs warm. Twos and threes, sometimes fours and fives but never more than five. The infield is alive with the slow, recovering pace of weary footprints.
And everything is silent.
There's really nothing to talk about. A grunt of disdain, barely audible creeps it way out of those who are having a worse day than others. A hushed whisper between a pair on the other side of the field is completely inaudible to everyone else. Never intentionally - simply for lack of air.
There's really nothing to talk about. Everyone has been here countless hours, preparing for some far off test. Communication isn't necessary, and simply takes the mind off of the task at hand. What is important is focusing on yourself recovering, preparing, staying loose, and staying confident. positive. hopeful.
So we circle the field as a collective family of 50, stumbling along like lethargic ants in chaos; everything silent.
Because there's really nothing to talk about.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The Alumni Meet
The first test on many track teams is often a low-key, awkward-distance-event oriented meet like an alumni meet or a dual meet with a team close by. For us it was the former, and I was slated to run the 1000m and the 4x4.
Now, I had a good winter. A great winter. My measuring stick? This is the only winter I've actually had running training. Ever.
During high school, I swam over the winter and put my focus on that. As I got better at running, I stuck with swimming to give myself a mental break, and on a more superficial level to collect 12 varsity letters throughout high school.
Pride. Sue me.
Last year, I was hurt from mid-October through January, and my 2 weeks of winter base training before I got back to school obviously wasn't enough to put me on a good level aerobically to have a great start.
But not this year. This year I killed everything over winter. I hammered my runs mercilessly, because there was nothing to peak for. No race to prepare for. I would have weeks where my average pace would be 6:08 for 55+ miles. That was on average. I iced regularly to prevent injury, and in general just looked ahead to see what I could do come spring. Come track.
And last weekend, track came.
I was confident in my aerobic ability, and was looking for the win. I know it's just a rinky-dink alumni meet. I know it means nothing in the long run. I know beating a 4:10 miler and a 4:15 miler in the first week of February has absolutely no effect on what I'm capable of in April/May.
But dammit, I wanted to race, and I wanted to win.
Unsure if I could out-strength those with faster marks than me, I decided I would rely on my speed. Basically, I wouldn't lead until I chose my spot to go and simply hammer away from everyone with raw speed. Simple enough plan, but everything sounds easier in your head than in your legs.
1000m on the track. The gun goes, and the 20+ of us jostle for position, and I settle on the rail in 4th as the pack hugs the first turn. The first 150m is fast, but then the leader (a 400/800m runner) decided that he doesn't like the position that he's in, and he slows down, assuming someone will pass him.
No one does, and the pace just drops like a rock. I'm stuck on the rail as I pass by 300m and I spend the back stretch maneuvering my way outside, afraid I'll miss a sudden move, but not before we go through 400m in 64. 64 is very, very slow.
As we go around the turn our 4:15 guy slowly works his way to the lead, and with 500m he decides to go. Hard.
stay calm, cover the move. good just coast behind, he's hammering but you have another gear you have another gear
I drift along behind him as we hit the bell, unaware if anyone has followed us. Unaware if we'll get passed. We come around the turn and with 300m he starts to lose a step, then 2 steps. I look down to make sure I don't clip his heels. I'm going to clip his heels. I move outside.
Just after the 300m mark I make my bid for home. I meet resistance down the straight, but I get my step and a half and I catch the pole a few yards before the turn.
Change gears. drive, drive, drive...
Faces of encouragement flash by. I dont know what we hit 800 in. As I come up on the last 100m I can't hear footsteps behind me. I look back once, twice, three times. Not the best idea but I don't care about the time, I just care about the win.
I run something between 2:32 and 2:34, depending on who you ask. My last 200m is somewhere between 27 and 30, depending on who you ask.
But I won, and I passed my little first test.
Came back an hour later to split 53.2 in the 4x4. Not a bad day.
More speed wouldn't hurt though.
Now, I had a good winter. A great winter. My measuring stick? This is the only winter I've actually had running training. Ever.
During high school, I swam over the winter and put my focus on that. As I got better at running, I stuck with swimming to give myself a mental break, and on a more superficial level to collect 12 varsity letters throughout high school.
Pride. Sue me.
Last year, I was hurt from mid-October through January, and my 2 weeks of winter base training before I got back to school obviously wasn't enough to put me on a good level aerobically to have a great start.
But not this year. This year I killed everything over winter. I hammered my runs mercilessly, because there was nothing to peak for. No race to prepare for. I would have weeks where my average pace would be 6:08 for 55+ miles. That was on average. I iced regularly to prevent injury, and in general just looked ahead to see what I could do come spring. Come track.
And last weekend, track came.
I was confident in my aerobic ability, and was looking for the win. I know it's just a rinky-dink alumni meet. I know it means nothing in the long run. I know beating a 4:10 miler and a 4:15 miler in the first week of February has absolutely no effect on what I'm capable of in April/May.
But dammit, I wanted to race, and I wanted to win.
Unsure if I could out-strength those with faster marks than me, I decided I would rely on my speed. Basically, I wouldn't lead until I chose my spot to go and simply hammer away from everyone with raw speed. Simple enough plan, but everything sounds easier in your head than in your legs.
1000m on the track. The gun goes, and the 20+ of us jostle for position, and I settle on the rail in 4th as the pack hugs the first turn. The first 150m is fast, but then the leader (a 400/800m runner) decided that he doesn't like the position that he's in, and he slows down, assuming someone will pass him.
No one does, and the pace just drops like a rock. I'm stuck on the rail as I pass by 300m and I spend the back stretch maneuvering my way outside, afraid I'll miss a sudden move, but not before we go through 400m in 64. 64 is very, very slow.
As we go around the turn our 4:15 guy slowly works his way to the lead, and with 500m he decides to go. Hard.
stay calm, cover the move. good just coast behind, he's hammering but you have another gear you have another gear
I drift along behind him as we hit the bell, unaware if anyone has followed us. Unaware if we'll get passed. We come around the turn and with 300m he starts to lose a step, then 2 steps. I look down to make sure I don't clip his heels. I'm going to clip his heels. I move outside.
Just after the 300m mark I make my bid for home. I meet resistance down the straight, but I get my step and a half and I catch the pole a few yards before the turn.
Change gears. drive, drive, drive...
Faces of encouragement flash by. I dont know what we hit 800 in. As I come up on the last 100m I can't hear footsteps behind me. I look back once, twice, three times. Not the best idea but I don't care about the time, I just care about the win.
I run something between 2:32 and 2:34, depending on who you ask. My last 200m is somewhere between 27 and 30, depending on who you ask.
But I won, and I passed my little first test.
Came back an hour later to split 53.2 in the 4x4. Not a bad day.
More speed wouldn't hurt though.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Track: Commence
I'll be brief.
I've technically been in track training since I got back to school on the 18th, but yesterday was our first actual hard track workout.
The workout was 2x(6x300), 75sec rest between intervals and 5min rest between the 2 sets.
The goal pace given to me was 46.5, but I went
46.5, 45.5, 46, 46, 46, 46 / 46.5, 46.5, 46, 46, 46, 45
averaging EXACTLY 46s per rep if I did my math right.
Felt fantastic.
Usually I have an issue on these workouts of having to really grind out the last 100m to hit the split right on, but today I just kept my arm form in check, tried to keep my leg swing high and stride rate up while staying relaxed, and I can honestly say that they didn't really HURT until the last 50m of the last 2 or 3.
Getting in shape is fun, especially when you're getting to a place where you've never been. It's exciting to compare yourself to.....yourself in years past and realize that you've never been this fit in your entire life.
In January.
What's gonna happen in April?
I've technically been in track training since I got back to school on the 18th, but yesterday was our first actual hard track workout.
The workout was 2x(6x300), 75sec rest between intervals and 5min rest between the 2 sets.
The goal pace given to me was 46.5, but I went
46.5, 45.5, 46, 46, 46, 46 / 46.5, 46.5, 46, 46, 46, 45
averaging EXACTLY 46s per rep if I did my math right.
Felt fantastic.
Usually I have an issue on these workouts of having to really grind out the last 100m to hit the split right on, but today I just kept my arm form in check, tried to keep my leg swing high and stride rate up while staying relaxed, and I can honestly say that they didn't really HURT until the last 50m of the last 2 or 3.
Getting in shape is fun, especially when you're getting to a place where you've never been. It's exciting to compare yourself to.....yourself in years past and realize that you've never been this fit in your entire life.
In January.
What's gonna happen in April?
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Dualism
There's an ongoing play running through my life, balancing running and everything else that I do. My mind is naturally forward looking, and it creates interesting phenomenon that I've picked up on as I pass the time on runs, left with nothing but my thoughts.
When it's just one of those days when you're out on a base or long run, just one of those days when you're doing the work because it has to be done, when it's just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your career, those are when you think the most to pass the time. Sometimes I think academically about a philosophy I'm struggling with, or try to remember the specific intricacies of the Chinese-American financial exchange market history and its implications into the future, or maybe sometimes I think about some relationship issue or interesting tidbits of my day. The point is just to get lost in thought, delving deep into your own mind to create a catharsis as you juxtapose said thoughts with running.
Then there's just one of those days when you're going through the motions, when classes aren't super exciting, when nothing really happens of note. Just one of those days when the weather is outstandingly average, when you don't have much to do and are left with a dull sense of boredom, just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your life.
And you think about running.
All day.
Each is equally important to counterweight the other in a time of need. Like a crutch or splint, each can be brought out in the mind to create a diversion from the mundane nature of the other. The saving grace, so to speak.
Which, oddly enough, makes them equally as important in this light. For a passion to reach that level....is it healthy? I don't know. What if I get hit by a car tomorrow and I'm left without my escape. What if I trip and my legs never work again. What if the team is cut and I'm left to my own devices.
The fact that running is equally as important to me as...the rest of my life places my sanity on a precipitous balance, because I know there will be a time when I cannot do it anymore. My eggs are all in one basket, so to speak (again).
These are the rambling thoughts of a 12mile run in Chino hills, clipping mile after mile on an outstandingly average day, one of those days that I'll never remember looking back on my career, except for maybe the time when I had this thought.
When it's just one of those days when you're out on a base or long run, just one of those days when you're doing the work because it has to be done, when it's just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your career, those are when you think the most to pass the time. Sometimes I think academically about a philosophy I'm struggling with, or try to remember the specific intricacies of the Chinese-American financial exchange market history and its implications into the future, or maybe sometimes I think about some relationship issue or interesting tidbits of my day. The point is just to get lost in thought, delving deep into your own mind to create a catharsis as you juxtapose said thoughts with running.
Then there's just one of those days when you're going through the motions, when classes aren't super exciting, when nothing really happens of note. Just one of those days when the weather is outstandingly average, when you don't have much to do and are left with a dull sense of boredom, just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your life.
And you think about running.
All day.
Each is equally important to counterweight the other in a time of need. Like a crutch or splint, each can be brought out in the mind to create a diversion from the mundane nature of the other. The saving grace, so to speak.
Which, oddly enough, makes them equally as important in this light. For a passion to reach that level....is it healthy? I don't know. What if I get hit by a car tomorrow and I'm left without my escape. What if I trip and my legs never work again. What if the team is cut and I'm left to my own devices.
The fact that running is equally as important to me as...the rest of my life places my sanity on a precipitous balance, because I know there will be a time when I cannot do it anymore. My eggs are all in one basket, so to speak (again).
These are the rambling thoughts of a 12mile run in Chino hills, clipping mile after mile on an outstandingly average day, one of those days that I'll never remember looking back on my career, except for maybe the time when I had this thought.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Help!....trapped in January
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.
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.
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