Doing the Splits
Wednesday, 12.20.2006:
Per the training schedule, three flat miles. Did 'em on a treadmill at the gym, with--wow!--negative splits.
Mile 1--11:00
Mile 2--9:00
Mile 3--8:30
"Negative splits," when you complete a later lap (or mile, in my case) faster than earlier ones in a race or training run, is a term rarely used in my vocabulary--at least, not to apply to me anyway.
I didn't really mean to run mile 3 that fast, but I was wearing headphones and got suckered. At precisely 20:00 my mP3 player, set to random play, served up some Michelle Shocked, "Making the Run to Gladewater." A fast song with a lively tempo. It was no trouble at all to stay on pace with the song. One of my feet was hitting the ground with every bass beat. I've never been a dancer (Ok, that's not true, once in kindergarden--so we're talking 25 years ago--there was a ballet recital in which I was dressed as a sparkly yellow butterfly--yes Kim I said SPARKLY). So, I've never really been a dancer, but I felt like one tonight. Unfamiliar territory.
It will sound strange if I say I felt like a giraffe running, because that doesn't likely conjure up images of sleekness and finesse for most people. It's also odd because the song is about a beer run on the backroads of Texas and here I was imagining I'm a wild and free animal on the savannahs of Africa, running not from a predator but just for the joy of moving gracefully.
No snickering. I felt graceful and who cares what it really looked like? I can't explain it. Just reporting.
On a dare with myself I stayed at that pace after the song ended and through the next, slower song too, until the treadmill display read 3.0 miles. I can't remember the last time I ran only three miles. It felt strange. I wish I had words to explain to non-runners, who get all freaky about how long and intimidating the training distances seem, how very short three miles seems after you get used to running five+ all the time. I don't say that to diminish the accomplishments of those just getting started. For those doing three miles, maximum, right now, super. I'm a fan of anybody that's up off their couches doing something. We all start with that first step and build up from there. But really, my current addict mindset caused me to stay on the treadmill for an extra mile, walking at 15: pace, just because 3m didn't seem long enough,
Monday, 12.18.2006:
Six hilly miles, 56:00. Up Markham and Kavanaugh to Mount Saint Mary's, around the school, and back through the neighborhoods down to Kavanaugh and return. Nice. Hot.
No one was selling Christmas trees at the School for the Blind today. I wonder why?
Per the training schedule, three flat miles. Did 'em on a treadmill at the gym, with--wow!--negative splits.
Mile 1--11:00
Mile 2--9:00
Mile 3--8:30
"Negative splits," when you complete a later lap (or mile, in my case) faster than earlier ones in a race or training run, is a term rarely used in my vocabulary--at least, not to apply to me anyway.
I didn't really mean to run mile 3 that fast, but I was wearing headphones and got suckered. At precisely 20:00 my mP3 player, set to random play, served up some Michelle Shocked, "Making the Run to Gladewater." A fast song with a lively tempo. It was no trouble at all to stay on pace with the song. One of my feet was hitting the ground with every bass beat. I've never been a dancer (Ok, that's not true, once in kindergarden--so we're talking 25 years ago--there was a ballet recital in which I was dressed as a sparkly yellow butterfly--yes Kim I said SPARKLY). So, I've never really been a dancer, but I felt like one tonight. Unfamiliar territory.
It will sound strange if I say I felt like a giraffe running, because that doesn't likely conjure up images of sleekness and finesse for most people. It's also odd because the song is about a beer run on the backroads of Texas and here I was imagining I'm a wild and free animal on the savannahs of Africa, running not from a predator but just for the joy of moving gracefully.
No snickering. I felt graceful and who cares what it really looked like? I can't explain it. Just reporting.
On a dare with myself I stayed at that pace after the song ended and through the next, slower song too, until the treadmill display read 3.0 miles. I can't remember the last time I ran only three miles. It felt strange. I wish I had words to explain to non-runners, who get all freaky about how long and intimidating the training distances seem, how very short three miles seems after you get used to running five+ all the time. I don't say that to diminish the accomplishments of those just getting started. For those doing three miles, maximum, right now, super. I'm a fan of anybody that's up off their couches doing something. We all start with that first step and build up from there. But really, my current addict mindset caused me to stay on the treadmill for an extra mile, walking at 15: pace, just because 3m didn't seem long enough,
Monday, 12.18.2006:
Six hilly miles, 56:00. Up Markham and Kavanaugh to Mount Saint Mary's, around the school, and back through the neighborhoods down to Kavanaugh and return. Nice. Hot.
No one was selling Christmas trees at the School for the Blind today. I wonder why?
posted by kelly f @ 9:18 PM
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