Posted by: jawsome | March 26, 2009

interval workout: a tale told in three parts

More epic workouts for Jawsome. Today’s training schedule called for intervals (specifically, 4 x 2:00 at 90%). Most people I see around here (by here I mean the blogosphere of course) seem to hate intervals. Not I. Perhaps they remind me of all the times I almost lost my cookies in track practice way back when. Ahh, the memories. Anyway, I heart intervals. I wanted to try out the five fingers on my intervals today, so I headed up to the mesa where I normally run. I was doing 3 miles before and after the intervals, and the thought of doing 7 miles on the dreadmill makes me cringe.

The run had all the prerequisites for excellence. I was well hydrated, I’d eaten 3 hours before (for once!), it was a beautiful day, and I was feeling rested and prepared. I should have perhaps known that something was funky at this point – my runs never usually line up so splendidly.

Cut to three miles into the run. I’m cruising at my race pace of 9:45 (yes, I’m slow, leave me alone!). Picture me: running along a high ocean cliff. Birds circle above, waves crash below, wind is blowing through my hair. Ahh, serenity. All of a sudden there’s this blasting siren and horns honking behind me. Keep in mind that I’m up on a wildlife refuge where there are no roads or cars – all dirt trails. Whaaa??!! I leapt off the trail and nearly did myself an injury. As it was, I scratched myself up pretty well. Speeding by me went two police cars and an ambulance. I don’t even know HOW they got that ambulance up there…

My ankles were  cut up and I was kind of spooked (serenity  = gone). So I decided to call it quits for the day and headed home. Of course, once I got home the guilt kicked in. All my pets knew I hadn’t done my whole workout. I could feel their feline and canine eyes judging me. FINE! I got on the treadmill and pounded out my intervals. At some point during my 7:30 mile (good lord I’m not meant for speed) I got kind of angry. My glorious mesa run ruined because I pussed out. I knew what that meant: back to the mesa to suck it up, buttercup.

During the last three miles I struggled to avoid the vanity fartlek as cops and various emergency personnel wandered about the place. Yeah, I have cool shoes. I’d let you look at them but I’m just moving too fast…

Now I’m back from my 3 part workout. Feeling slightly foolish, but hey it got done. 7.25 miles in the 5 fingers. Still love ’em.

UPDATE: I never did find out what was going on, but there were crowds of people gathering and speculating. Hopefully everyone is ok.

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Responses

  1. wow. sounds like an adventure. i’m impressed you headed back out after returning home – my couch usually sucks me in!


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