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.



  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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