Yesterday morning, I woke up at 6am and immediately reached for my phone to check the temperature outside. It was 10 degrees, with a real feel of 5. I shivered at even the thought of going out, and managed to kill time doing absolutely nothing (scrolling on Instagram) for another 40 minutes or so. Meanwhile, S headed out to take Riley for a very quick run. When he got back, I asked, “how cold does it FEEL?” He said it was very cold.
So, I figured the occasion called for one of my warmest winter running shirts. It’s an old one from Under Armour and it’s fleece lined.
Then I layered up with my Boston Marathon 2014 jacket, my Resolute Runner hat, and a neck warmer. I put on two layers of gloves, fleece lined leggings (also old from New Balance) and high socks.
I left the house thinking I’d probably have to call it quits due to the cold. And boy, was I wrong. I shed my neck warmer after one mile, and I was SO close to circling back and shedding layers at the house but I had figured I HAD COME TOO FAR. I was going to continue my workout as planned. And then several miles later (spoiler alert), I wanted to die.
My plan was for 5 miles, 3 at tempo pace with one warm up and one cool down. Obviously my warm up got me real warm, and then I was off. Now, I don’t know why I thought this workout would go well. I have done maybe 4 tempo runs ever outside and I’ve had a faster more experienced runner-friend pace me for every single one of them. Also they’ve always been at sea level. And in the evening. And in normal temperatures. But, whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine! This. is. FINE.
Well, here’s how it went:
W/U: 9:14 (Good job, nice controlled pace)
Tempo Mile #1: 7:38 (Whoa, that went better than I thought!)
Tempo Mile #2: 7:47 (Dry heaving)
Tempo Mile #3: 8:48 (Yes, I gave up)
C/D: 8:46 (Woof.)
So, guys. It turns out that I’m basically starting back at square one with my training. And not just from a pace perspective, but I actually need to learn how to run again!
Pacing does not come naturally to me. It took me about 3 marathons to learn how to negative split, and then a few more to actually be able to guess what pace I was running without staring incessantly at my watch. Now, with the altitude and being grossly out of shape, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. 7:38 used to be a very comfortable pace for me. Heck, it was the planned pace for my Boston last year. Today, it nearly killed me after ONE mile. This is not promising. But I’m optimistic/delusional enough to believe I can regain my old level of fitness before my LA half marathon next month. Only time will tell.
Stick with me until then? Undecided? Here, let this face convince you.