So this was the night, the first of the many Tempo Tuesdays to come. What a perfect night to start - 50 degrees and sunshine, light winds, and 16 runners.
On the front end was Miller and Wes. No one would be able to stay with them, especially Wes, but neither did they seem to have a particular plan for the run. That meant the actual plan fell to the second tier runners - Jimmy and myself.
We agreed we'd take the pace to 6:40. This would enable us to monitor our pace by quarter mile quite easily. It wouldn't likely tax either one of us too much. The important point there is this run wasn't intended to be really hard, just harder.
We broke into smaller groups, and we let the slower ones start. We would overtake them soon enough, but hopefully the staggered start would bring us together at the end.
Jimmy just couldn't stop gabbing, and he missed the start. Wes split hard at the jump, making the perfect bookend to Jimmy. Now it was choice time - chase Wes or wait on Jimmy.
Miller made the choice for me. He split the difference, and I figured that was the best choice. I ran off his shoulder through the quarter, and soon saw that it was way too fast. I let it drop a bit after that, and we hit mile one at 6:13.
That's quite a bit faster than 6:40. But you knew that.
It wasn't hard. At least, I didn't feel it so much. But it was hard, harder by far than I've run in a while. It was nice, but scary. The way it is anymore, I don't pay for these mistakes right away - it's the next few days, when something snaps. It's always easy to push too far when it feels good. By the time you realize the mistake, it's too late.
I did get an early warning. In mile two the left calf starting hurting a bit. Not a lot, but in the wrong spot. This will need a lot of attention going forward.
We (Miller and I) hit 6:13, 6:25, and 6:27. That's not too bad. 6:40 was a shot in the dark to begin with anyway, so I don't worry too much about it. It does however give me a way to decide what next week's pace should be.
Tomorrow will be a regular run. I hope to get 8-10 miles. Hope. Operative word.
On the front end was Miller and Wes. No one would be able to stay with them, especially Wes, but neither did they seem to have a particular plan for the run. That meant the actual plan fell to the second tier runners - Jimmy and myself.
We agreed we'd take the pace to 6:40. This would enable us to monitor our pace by quarter mile quite easily. It wouldn't likely tax either one of us too much. The important point there is this run wasn't intended to be really hard, just harder.
We broke into smaller groups, and we let the slower ones start. We would overtake them soon enough, but hopefully the staggered start would bring us together at the end.
Jimmy just couldn't stop gabbing, and he missed the start. Wes split hard at the jump, making the perfect bookend to Jimmy. Now it was choice time - chase Wes or wait on Jimmy.
Miller made the choice for me. He split the difference, and I figured that was the best choice. I ran off his shoulder through the quarter, and soon saw that it was way too fast. I let it drop a bit after that, and we hit mile one at 6:13.
That's quite a bit faster than 6:40. But you knew that.
It wasn't hard. At least, I didn't feel it so much. But it was hard, harder by far than I've run in a while. It was nice, but scary. The way it is anymore, I don't pay for these mistakes right away - it's the next few days, when something snaps. It's always easy to push too far when it feels good. By the time you realize the mistake, it's too late.
I did get an early warning. In mile two the left calf starting hurting a bit. Not a lot, but in the wrong spot. This will need a lot of attention going forward.
We (Miller and I) hit 6:13, 6:25, and 6:27. That's not too bad. 6:40 was a shot in the dark to begin with anyway, so I don't worry too much about it. It does however give me a way to decide what next week's pace should be.
Tomorrow will be a regular run. I hope to get 8-10 miles. Hope. Operative word.
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