On Wednesday I did my speed workout. I was foolish and saved it for after work (I usually don’t like doing speed work in the morning) and by the time I got in my car at 5pm, I was coming up with every excuse on the planet to bail. I even rationalized that I could do it on Thursday, a day before my long run (scheduled for today). However, S killed that idea before I was able to even get the full sentence out. So, after being stuck in traffic for nearly an hour, I finally stepped up to my treadmill at 6pm sharp. And let’s just say I did NOT have a positive attitude about it.
Then, something weird (except not at all weird, because pretty much every runner experiences this as one time or another) happened. I felt great. After my mile warm up, I boldly set the treadmill to 7:41 with plans to increase every mile after that. And I did! AND it felt pretty dang good! I wouldn’t say great, because if you’re doing a tempo run and it feels great, you MUST GO FASTER. BUT it felt good. It was the first time since we moved here that that pace actually felt “comfortably hard” instead of “this-is-the-hardest-thing- I’ve-ever-done-and-I-am-going-to-puke-and-collapse-hard.”
So, all-in-all I ran 7 miles (1 mile w/u, 1 mile c/d) at 7:51 pace, with 5 middle miles at an average of 7:30. Pretty dang pleased with myself, I gotta say. If we’re taking altitude into consideration (which we always are on THIS blog, because it makes me feel better), I’m at about the same fitness level that I was at last year around this time. Because according to this article, 5000 feet adds about 10-20 seconds to your pace. For this particular instance, let’s just say it adds 20 seconds…
Anyway, horn tooting and altitude rationalizing aside, isn’t that strange how that almost always happens? On the days I really (and I mean, really) don’t want to run, I always end up feeling pretty good out there. It’s like the universe is patting me on the back for getting up and doing it.
Now, let’s just hope the universe pats me on the back again today during my long run.