Remember that 5k Turkey Trot I ran back in November? Remember how I felt a little like Ariel must have felt when Ursula ripped her soul/voice right out of her with voodoo magic? I was pretty damn proud of that time/PR, right?
Well, on Tuesday I had some speed work scheduled, and I was pretty sure it was going to feel like that 5k all over again. 3 x 1600m at yasso pace (7:10′s for me right now). “DED,” I thought. 1600′s have consistently given me trouble this training cycle. Even when it was just one 1600 (singular, no plural involved). They were my white whale (Like a horrific traffic accident, I couldn’t take my eyes away from this. Sorry not sorry.). My ticking crocodile. While I’ve felt myself growing stronger and stronger over the last ten weeks (TEN! This cycle is FLYING!), I was still shaking in my boots over this workout.
And then a funny thing happened. I did it. And I felt strong. And I felt good. And I felt like I could keep going.
I sent Coach a text on the way home.
I felt funny. This was supposed to be really hard. I expected it to feel really hard. In reality, it felt really … comfortable? Ok, not comfortable, but attainable. Progress was staring me right in the face, and I had no idea how to process it. I hadn’t really given it much thought. I was just thinking about going home and eating pizza in sweatpants.
Then he put it into perspective for me.
In the quest for my big, giant, marathon goal, I had allowed myself to lose sight of the little goals. Like not wanting to vomit after a workout. I’ve been really pleased at how well my body has responded to speed work, and I’m excited to see how it pays off come May 4.
When you’re in the thick of something, and you’re not necessarily seeing the forest for the trees, it’s nice to get some outside perspective.
* Dear Chicago. Sorry for reminding you about that beach thing…
** For a hot second, basking in the glow of that text, I was like “Hot damn! Maybe I should run another 5k!” and then I remembered what that felt like, and I went back to eating my pizza.