I have a confession to make. And it's a shocker. Please remove all small children from within range of this computer screen and for the love of God, sit down.
I am a lazy, lazy woman.
I know. I'm shocked too…. Wait, you already knew that from the extra 20 pounds that I tote around? Damn. Must try to hide that somehow. Isn't black supposed to be slimming? Didn't I read that somewhere?
But I digress.
Since that fateful day in August (August 16 to be precise), when I absolutely lost whatever shred of brain cells I've managed to hang onto this long and registered for the Gasparilla Distance Classic 5k in February, I have been running. Yes, running. That gait that is faster than a walk. And, in case you were wondering, under no circumstances do I jog. Ever.
And, since this is a confession post, I have another one to get off my chest.
I friggin' love it.
I do. When it's going good, when my stride is right, when my breathing is good, when the stars align and I hit the road, I am a happy girl. There is nothing on God's green Earth that is better than a good run (except riding). For me at least, it's a feeling of accomplishment. That I've pushed myself and have become an efficient, ground-covering, speed demon of a machine. It's an awesome feeling.
I started out doing the Couch to 5k thing. Intervals up and down my road. (I have since discovered that my road has hills! Who knew?!). And that was pretty cool. It is amazing how quickly the human body can adapt, especially the respiratory system. I started out with just 30 seconds of running, interspersed with 60 seconds of walking. And by the third interval, I was done. Toast. Kaput. Sucking wind and completely out of air.
But I kept at it (because I am stubborn) and, by Friday, that third interval wasn't so hard. By the second week, I had to step up my running interval because it was too easy. That has never ever happened to me before. I've never been "aired up" as the horse people say. I've always pushed too hard and quit too soon. Typical behavior for someone who isn't even patient enough to wait for sliding doors to open.
So, there I was, running along on my 3-days-a-week intervals, pretty freakin' proud of myself for even getting this far. I was on Week 4 of the Couch to 5k when this man decided he needed a new project now that he's retired and bored. And that project is me. Welcome to the world of actual training Jessica! He's got me doing stuff that I have never even heard of much less attempt! Distance runs suck (my brain won't shut up. I think I need someone to talk to.) but I have discovered my niche.
SPEEDWORK!
God, how I love running sprints. Sure, by the last one I am slow and tired and on the verge of puking, but damn I am a FAST MUTHA on the first one! POWER!!
In all actuality, I'm probably not that fast. But, when you run by yourself, you are Olympics-quick! SUCK IT SLOW PEOPLE! Berating your imaginary running competitors is fun.
So, I'm slowly progressing. Running faster is easier than running slower (take that conventional wisdom) and I'm making progress every week. Sometimes I don't see it (and am a real witch to live with. Sorry sorry to my house full of Bs.) but sometimes, like yesterday, it all comes together. Yesterday was speedwork (hallelujah) and I kicked its booty all over Coach's 25 acre spread.
The first sprint started at our Start Line (a big ol' oak tree right on the fenceline). Coach took off on his golf cart and my job was to sprint to him. Easy, right? So, Button-Dog and I are standing there at the tree watching Coach and his golf cart get farther and farther and farther away until he looked like a little speck on the horizon. He wants me to sprint HOW FAR?! He's officially lost his mind. It wouldn't be the first time I would ask him if he was suffering from dementia.
Like all sprints, I start off with a very un-girl-like grunt and off we go. And I can tell it's going to be one of "those days" when the stars align and damn this is fun! Before I know it, we've (Button and I) have passed the golf cart and are barely blowing. YEEHAW FOR ME!
This continued on for 5 more sprints (for the remaining sides of our "track" and two times up and down the top hill). The last one was sloooow (comparatively. It's probably faster than I was running on Monday.) but I made it with good form (and not too much huffing or puffing)
Then, after a decent rest period, Coach decided it was time to institute the Chase. I run, he chases me on the golf cart. While screaming. NOT my idea of fun. At all. In fact, there is a pretty strong chance that I will sull up and scream back. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to this. I don't want to scream at my Coach. He's doing this out of the goodness of his heart (because I sure can't afford him) and I know, deep down, that this will be good for me.
Coach gives me "the Look" and I'm out of here. And, maybe it was the threat of Coach catching up to me (but it was probably the fact that I just wanted to go home at that point) but I took off. Around the corner and down the hill back to the Start Tree, I ran farther and faster that I ever have before. The last 30 yards were tough (shut up brain!) but I persevered. And crossing that tree in form and quickly felt goooood.
I so got the distance run today.
