speedy 4

So remember way back when (like 3 weeks ago which is an entire eon), when I ran that track work out like I was Lolo Jones? Things are back to normal, now. Primarily because I actually ran on a regulation track. It makes a surprising difference.

Yasso 800s, with a 1 mile warm up/1 mile cool down:

set 1- 3:03

set 2- 3:20

set 3- 3:39

set 4- 3:20

It was raining and went from dusk to pitch black. I had Bubs with me, and he ran laps of his own, totaling about 2 miles.

He’s my little superstar. He stood at the end of my laps, shouting “Go Mama! Run as fast as you can! You’re a cheetah! I’m a velociraptor so I’m faster, but you’re really fast for a mammal! WOW!!”

Seriously. I wish my legs were half as fast as his mouth.

I have that feeling of being full of potential again. Let’s chalk it up to my heart-to-heart with myself and not that I had a fully charged iPod.

“Speed is a great asset;

but it’s greater when it’s combined with quickness – and there’s a big difference. -Ty Cobb

For a game that is mostly mental (90%, remember), baseball has not produced as many brainiacs as might be expected. Go figure. Even puddles can be deceptively deep, though.

I had my speed session last night. For lack of a different plan, I went with the Yasso 800s. I got to the track, and it was only at that point that a little dread set in about what I had in front of me. The plan is to start with 4 800s and work up to 10.

So here are the numbers:

2:17; 1:07/1:10*; 2:31; 2:34

I just looked up the world records, and there is no way mine are correct. I know the time is right, but the distance must be wrong. Next speed work session will be held at a track that the city gub’ment promises is regulation length (cannot find info about the track I ran last night ANYWHERE, obviously not a good sign, DUH).

*I split up my second “800” because I ran them with an autistic boy (about 10 or so?). He and his mom were there to watch his older brother’s soccer practice. He tried to approach me a few times and his mom kept trying to shepherd him away. He ended up doubling back on her and was standing near me, but looking past me. I asked him if he wanted to run, and darted right up to the starting line and crouched down into a sprinter’s start. I had to grin at that!

He spent most of our laps watching our shadows to make sure we were even. I gave up on trying to do the full 800 with him about 12 steps in. I had to shorten my stride like you wouldn’t believe as we really had a free-for-all regarding personal space bubbles while running. But I had fun and I got some of the happy arm flapping after the second lap, so I know he enjoyed it, too.

After our second lap, we had an overly dramatic competition in front of his mom to see who was more tired (think flopping on the ground, gasping for breath. I won, btw). He then told me I need to come back to the track and beat his older brother (who is alternately fast and lazy. Ah, the pre-teen years. I remember you so well). His mom seemed surprised by the verbal exchange, and genuinely thanked me for running with him. Which made me really sad. I was going to run either way; all I did was not trip over her son as he cut back and forth in front of me from my left to my right sides. But it was obviously something more to her, so I won’t diminish it.

So, in summary, I have no idea how this workout went. Obviously, it was a challenge (notice the time difference between set 1 and set 4). But next week’s speed work out will go a little differently. I am sure of that.

hearing the mental ‘click’

I got home from school in a great mood yesterday. It was a beautiful sunset, in a way that cannot be replicated outside of the PNW. I was excited to bake my spaghetti squash and squeeze in a run while it was in the oven.

Before I managed to get the squash cut and in the oven I was reconnecting with my husband. We’ve both had usually busy schedules and we really haven’t been anything more than ships passing in the night. I’m not using ‘reconnecting’ as any type of euphemism; I haven’t had a real conversation with the man in over a week. Then suddenly it was 11:30 and I hadn’t eaten or run.

Hubs has a coworker that is on vacation, so he needed to go in to work this morning (on his day off) to take care of a few things and ended up staying for 5 hours. So my morning run became nonexistent. I spent the day trying to finish up last minute wedding details.

I found myself with an intense headache snapping at everyone and saying some really uncharitable things about my brother (never mind that my mom was saying the same things about him and she actually birthed the man-cub). He must have sensed my mood from across town because he called me to say that he really appreciated that I put together his wedding and that he wouldn’t have been able to do it without me. Darn tootin’, kid. That phone call literally stopped me in my tracks and forced me to really think about why I was so frustrated.

Can you guess why? Yeah, I missed my run. There’s that mental click. I’m frustrated that I don’t really have enough time to run tonight because then I just add more to my to-do list tomorrow. As I stated a couple of days ago, running is not a choice. Running wins. I can still get everything done in plenty of time. There will be extra help tomorrow anyway.

You know what else? I actually have a craving to run a speed workout. Being that the closest track requires a drive, I’m going to do block sprints. And I’m going to go until it’s too dark to see. Then I’ll bake that cake.