I woke up before the alarm clock’s warning. It read a blurry 4:47 AM. Normally I would pull the covers over my head and try to get in the last few minutes of sleep but not today. Nope, today I was all geeked up for the scheduled track workout. What could put such a zip in my boomer bones? Just a little something I saw on OLN after the Tour ‘no Lance. I watched 2004 Olympic gold medalist Jeremy Wariner crush his competition in the 400 meter run with a time of 43.91 seconds! He finished ten meters ahead of the second place finisher.
(Now, besides being impressed, no, no, make the amazed at Wariner’s athletic performance I have another reason to perk up when I watch him race. He is a graduate of Baylor University and that’s the school where for the last two years I’ve written some fat tuition checks. I like to think I’m contributing to the success of the track team in some, albeit small, way. So, study hard little girl, Sic’em Bears and all of that.)
Back to why I was springing out of bed. The track workout with my tri-gang was this:
1,600 meter warm up jog
400 meters
400 meters
800 meters
1,600 meters
800 meters
400 meters
400 meters
1,600 meter cool down jog
Each segment was to be faster than the ones prior and oh yes, only 30 seconds rest in between segments.
I was thinking I just watched Wariner dig deep and put on a show so why not me too? I was feeling good and ready for a challenging workout.
Yeah, I was jazzed. But would I be singing the same tune at the end?
Here’s how it went:
400 meters – 1:31
400 meters – 1:28
800 meters – 3:06
1,600 meters – 6:17
800 meters – 3:04
400 meters – 1:26
400 meters – 2:02
Ugh!
That last 400 meters about killed my middle-aged heinie. The first 200 meters went pretty good until I hit the final turn. That’s where I started wheezing like a two pack a day smoker. My legs felt like logs and everything around me moved in slow motion. It was a turn too far and I stumbled into a classic bonk. My run became a waddle, shoulders hunched, and arms flailed out to the sides. I bumbled and stumbled with no form for 100 meters until finally crossing the finish line.
My tri-gang homies looked at me with concern.
One of them asked, “Are you OK?” They waited for me to answer as I hunched over with my hands on my knees.
I said, “huff… cough… Yeah…. huff… I’m OK… cough… huff.”
They just looked at me in silence as if they didn’t believe me until my coach said with a wink,
“What happened Boomer? Boii, you run like crap [actual expletive used, but changed here, is a favorite of President Bush].
They laughed and I would have too but I still couldn’t catch my breath.
huff, huff… cough.
Maybe Jeremy Wariner doesn’t have anything to worry about from me but I’m gonna keep working at it. This same workout is on the schedule six weeks from today. I’ll be there and I’ll be ready.
Stay tuned…
6 comments:
Good Lord... I hate speedwork!
Funny..that's exactly how I felt when I had to chase my Greyhound...wish I could run like the wind..:-)
That's some good running, triboomer.
Huffing and puffing is a good sign..it means u are working hard enough :)
I'll be right there with you, tomorrow. Just mapped out a 70 mile bike, and figure it will be one heck of a workout. Eleven miles further than recent longest rides. It won't, however, be anything near resembling speedwork.
I'll be as alone as Floyd Landis was during stage 17, but nowhere near as fast.
Yikes! That's one helluva workout. But boy, speedwork sure feels good... when it's done :)
You sprung out of bed for **that?** Sheesh!
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