Runners sprint...and so do I

I'm really bad at paying attention to the training schedule - and I apparently missed the announcement from Head Coach Michael Gaige last week that said we'd be doing sprints this week.

Yikes. Sprints.

I'm lucky, though. Having trained with this program last year I have a good idea what to expect (hence the lackluster effort to pay attention to the schedule).

But for other runners in the group who heard the "S" word last week, I imagine their thought process went just like mine did when I first heard the word last year: "Sprints? Say what?! Did he just say sprints? He couldn't have. I'm not ready for any damn sprints - that's obvious. Are they trying to KILL me? That must be it! The whole world is against me! Why, God. Why?!?"

Whatever they were thinking, it must have been bad. Half the group failed to show last night. Maybe they were frightened off by the chilly wind. Maybe they were scooping out avocados in preparation for a wild Cinco de Mayo house party. Whatever the reason, the ranks were thin.

But we hardcore folks jogged out to the the Back Cove and ran sprints around the soccer fields. Head Coach Michael said that including sprints in your training is a great way to amp up your breathing efficiency - quickly, too. It's also a good change of pace from the regular routine.

The faster group looped around both fields - mine stuck to running around just one. The short course was split into quarters: sprint a leg, jog a leg, sprint a leg, jog a leg. Like so:

We went around four times total, then huddled by the water cooler for some much-needed air and water.

As we stood there recuperating, someone pointed out the empty Geary's packaging lingering suspiciously close to the water cooler. "This IS water, right?"

Yeah, it was just water. But I wished - just for a moment - that it wasn't.

We were allowed to jog/walk the mile or so back to the store, but the sprinting had me too jazzed up to consider walking. So I ran the whole way back (alternating between a slow jog and a faster run the entire way...I like this interval stuff).

Yea, sprints are okay by me.

Take that hostility and run with it

I knew a girl in college who claimed to go running whenever she was stressed, upset or feeling crappy.

I could relate, since I did the same thing (except not so much "running" as "drinking").

She, of course, was in great shape. I, of course, didn't hang out with her much.

But since then I've wondered at how ridiculously fit we'd all be if we went out for a 5-mile run instead of a 5-glass binge when stresses crept up. I'd have a lot less jiggle in my walk, that's for sure.

And I'm lucky, my life isn't all that stressful. I hang with good people, the bills always manage to get paid and any children I may have had are now turning a profit through a little-known cattle ranch work program in the American Southwest.

I happen to love my job, too. And I'm not just saying that because my boss has spyware on my computer. This work suits me - and the "So this is what it's like to enjoy going to work" appreciation isn't lost on me.

But even good jobs have their moments. Or should I say, even happy employees have their breakdowns.

Yesterday afternoon I was on deadline with a project - and we all know deadlines are quick and easy ways to amp up the stress level. But I was feeling fine - plugging along with the work. Then - from nowhere - the spinning rainbow wheel of death! Nooo!

Mac users know what I'm talking about. It's that taunting (yet magically colorful!) spinning wheel that says, "Yea, that thing you were just working on...I didn't really like where you were going with it so I decided to just shut the whole process down. Go ahead - reboot. I'll be right here. I've got all the time in the world."

Maybe it's the moon's position in relation to the gravitational pull of Mercury's neoprimal subtuition (I just made that up). Maybe it was hyper-caffeination. Maybe it was delayed weekend detox. Maybe stress exists even in the best of workplaces.

Whatever. The point is I flipped a lid. I fancied giving my keyboard a chuck, but that's "frowned upon" according my annual review. I cursed at my monitor (sometimes in my head, but mostly out loud) and pressed my fingers to my temples to keep my skull from popping.

I was hostile. I was overflowing with angst.

"Well," I thought, "If it worked for that skinny broad I went to school with, maybe running off stress can work for me, too."

So off to the group run I went, head steaming, brow furrowed.

We were tackling the Back Cove in its entirety - my group expected to run 6 minutes, walk 2 minutes. A handful of us were feeling semi-confident that we could run longer portions, so we set off as a separate group to see how it went.

It went really well.

Ran from the store all the way around Back Cove with only 2 walk breaks. That's 4 miles people! 4!

Sure, carbs are great for instant energy. Energy bars and Goo and whatnot. But speaking from experience, hostility makes a decent fuel too.

It's about time

With yesterday's pleasing temps and sunshine, I was looking forward to the Thursday group run. I even sported some shorts for the first time in 2008 (legs, meet sun. You might remember each other from last year).

Not wanting to be late (and to hopefully garner a decent parking spot that wouldn't require too much walking on my part...yes, I see the irony) I headed out of my apartment at 6:15.

There were cars lining the side streets and the Maine Running Company parking lot, but I managed to snag a spot close to the building (thank you, Car Gnome, for keeping me ticket-free for five years and always managing to locate a parking spot for me when I really need it. Your presence on my rear view mirror brings a calmness to my heart).

But as I walked up to the store, I took note of the quiet on the street. No other runners fighting for parking. No one walking up to the door. No one stretching on the sunlit sidewalk out front. Strange.

The inside of Maine Running Company proved equally still and empty. Typically the store is packed with people - and now it stood quiet except for a saleswoman on the phone and another helping a customer.

I looked at the clock. 6:24. Where IS everyone?

Turns out, I thought the start time was something like this:

But it's really something more like this:

I have no idea where I got 6:30 from. But there I was, standing dumbly at the checkout counter, the training group long gone, feeling like a moron.

Training leader John Rogers said I might be able to catch up to my group, who had taken the Back Cove path toward Payson Park.

The moment of truth came when I had to walk past my closely parked car to get to the Back Cove.

"I can just leave," I thought. But my legs didn't turn toward the car. They didn't hesitate or slow down to give me time to ponder what to do. Instead, they started jogging. Jogging!

I ran (read: very slowly ran) to the Back Cove path and headed toward the park, figuring I'd eventually hit the group on their way back. I did - and Janice was kind enough to turn around and run the distance again with me.

"We're doing a 4:2 run/walk ratio today," she said.

"You know what, I've been running for 8 minutes already and I feel great. Let's just keep going." Damn straight.

We ran approx. two miles without walking. Ever. (Well, okay, a few blocks at the end to cool down. Why all the nit picking?)

It took me weeks to build up to that point last year, which means the runs at the gym really have paid off. Which also means that I'm feeling just a wee bit proud of myself today (okay, hugely proud of myself. You just don't anything go by, do you?).

The first group run, all over again

Last night was the Reach the Beacon group's first meeting - and man was the store crowded. I spotted quite a few of the runner's from last year's group, too, who had come back for another round.

Unlike me, however, many of them have been running all winter (which was evident just by looking at them). They looked svelte! They looked like runners! So that's what "in shape" looks like. Good to know.

I'm sure they could just as easily tell that I have NOT been running all winter. I have been semi-consistently hitting the gym since January. Nothing too intense, but it at least puts me ahead of where I was this time last year (but not by much).

Don't get me wrong, I still have issues with the pants (you know, that looming tower of too-tight trousers that's been illegally squatting in my closet for...well...a long, long time).

But this isn't about pants.

It's about taking that first step (for the second time) towards a goal that's four-plus months out.

Once John Rogers and lead trainer Michael Gaige spoke to the group about the program and what to expect, we broke out into training groups. Can't run 20 minutes on a track without stopping to walk? Right over here, folks.

The more capable runners did a 30-minute run on the Back Cove trail. We "less-capable" runners did a 20-minute walk/run. It was supposed to be an alternate of 2 minutes running, 3 minutes walking. Sounds like a cake walk, right?

But imagine having forgotten your watch, so you're reliant on the runners in front of you. And imagine that, five minutes in, they decide that the 2:3 ratio is too easy, so they just keep running.

You're plugging along, making conversation and trying to distract yourself from the fact that this seems like WAY LONGER than 2 minutes, but you don't dare stop before they do.

At any rate, 20 minutes goes by in a flash. It's a good welcome to the program run (especially for all those people who showed up thinking, "They won't make us run on the first day"). Um, yes they will. At least yesterday was precipitation free, kind of sunny and not bone-chilling cold.

Last year's first run was done in three inches of slush during a snow storm (uphill both ways and barefoot, of course).

It was one of those sloppy early spring days that kind of tick you off because you've been shoveling snow for what seems like eternity and while you like snow just as much as the next guy you've hit some sort of snow acceptance limit and the thought of scraping off your windshield one more time starts you twitching ever so slightly - nothing too wild or anything it's just the past few days were kind of mild and you thought all this white stuff was a thing of the past but now it's back and you don't know why because the calendar says 'spring' dammit!

You know, one of those days like today.

I'm not bitter.