Thursday, March 18, 2010

Back to the Track, Jack

(Note: I have no idea who Jack is, but I was feeling the whole rhyming post title and it sounded good in my head.)

On Tuesday night Candis and I took advantage of our extra hour of daylight and ventured out to the track for some intervals. You know what I love about the track? - Leaving. That’s right, I love it when the workout is over and I get to go home. Does running intervals at the track make me a better runner? Absolutely. Does it push me to my limits and leave me with a feeling of accomplishment? No question. Do I enjoy running intervals? No. No I do not. There is no better way to make yourself feel like a wheezing, lumbering fatty than to challenge yourself with some intervals.

I was a little slower than I would have liked and Candis was a little faster than I would have liked. I ran 5 x 800s (7:32 pace) and she had the nerve to stick with me for the first three 800s. Wha?!? Yup, she stayed about a step behind me for the first three intervals, probably so that she could admire my legs and butt. What am I a piece of meat? I managed to drop her on the last two intervals but I found little comfort in beating her because she cut them down to 400s so that I wouldn’t have the thrill of standing around at the finish line and waiting for her while repeatedly checking my watch.

There’s no motivation in the world like your wife starting to catch up to you. She’s getting faster and a cursory check of the last time I wrote about hating intervals reveals that I am not (see my pacing at the bottom of that post). I think she’s even starting to get ideas in her head about competing with me in races, which is just preposterous. How am I supposed to keep her in her proper place if she starts beating me in races? By the way, that’s just a rhetorical question because it’s NEVER GONNA’ HAPPEN. You hear me?

15 comments:

  1. Perhaps you were channeling your inner Ray Charles. Unfortunately, you may be running like him too...

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  2. 5 x 800? You jumped in with both feet. She'd have to be a real JACKass to even try to compete with you (see what I did there?)

    Note to Candis: Way to humor fatty by dropping off after 3.

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  3. i too did my first intervals in a long time on tuesday night, but i actually enjoy them. 8 x 400m at 6:24 pace and i was faster than my goal on each one.

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  4. Intervals. Hmmm... yeah, I'm gonna have to do one of those one of these days.

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  5. See, that's why I don't do intervals. I don't like losing.

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  6. That's excellent--I'm cheering for Candis! I did my first track this week also--800, 1200, 800, 1200, 800. I was pretty pleased with pace also, but damn was I sore on yesterday's easy run!

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  7. If you didn't slack off all last year, you might have improved your pace. She's got you beat already.

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  8. One thing I've observed in races is that the fastest men are often young, like teenagers, but the fastest women are often in their 30s, sometimes 40s.

    So, you are probably getting slower whereas she's only bound to get faster.

    Don't worry, running behind her gives you the chance to admire her butt and legs :)

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  9. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows Marion Jones.

    Just sayin'

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  10. There is no better way to make yourself feel like a wheezing, lumbering fatty than to challenge yourself with some intervals.

    Ha! Now I'm really looking forward to eventually starting interval training. :P

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  11. I am rooting for Candis so hard it's not even funny. GO, CANDIS!

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  12. YAY, Candis! I, too, am rooting for Candis. The second she beats your ass in a run - and it WILL happen, mark my words - each one of your female readers will cheer raucously and celebrate wildly.

    And when your kids start beating you? Even better...

    (I get your pain, though. My Boy Moose is hot on my heels and I'm COMPLETELY panic stricken. I should be glad for his success, but I just find myself willing him to pull a hamstring. I'm a super mom like that.)

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  13. I've always dreaded track workouts. Something about the deja vu feeling of repeating the same thing just gets me. Sounds like you've got a challenge on your hands.

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