Track Attack

I am a firm believer that speedwork is unavoidable if I want to stand a chance of qualifying for Boston. Despite the horrible math you have to do while running to make sure you’re staying on pace, it’s amazing to feel that you can run faster without as much effort—which of course, makes you want to run even faster.

I was never concerned with speed when training for my first marathon--my goal was to finish, not to be the new Deena Kastor. Eventually, I bought a fancy running watch (my beloved Garmin) and learned that I could go to mapmyrun.com and plan out my runs. I became increasingly more aware of my pace and even learned to program my watch to beep at me when I slowed down too much (which can get really annoying in San Francisco when you are being destroyed by hills).

But now, with the Boston Marathon carrot dangling in the horizon, it's time to really get serious--and do some serious speedwork at the track.

Wednesdays are designated "speed days," and I find myself masochistically looking forward to having my butt kicked by the Kezar Roadrunners--an awesome running group I joined here in San Francisco. We meet at Kezar Track, where Coach Joe gives us a different workout every week and we run countless laps around the track. Literally countless—I find it almost impossible to keep track of how many laps we’re supposed to do and at what pace (trust me, it’s harder than it sounds). Case in point, a typical workout can go like this:

Start by doing three 1200s, the first slightly slower than 10K pace, the second at 10K pace, the last slightly faster than 10K pace, with 400 recovery in between. Then do two 600s at 5K pace with 200 recovery. Then four 400s at 3K pace with complete recovery. Did I mention that I should also be keeping track of how long it takes to complete each lap to make sure I’m staying on pace?

Seriously, who can do math, convert distances from miles to kilometers or vice-versa, keep up an insanely fast pace, keep track of which lap you're on and at what pace you're running, all while remembering to breathe and trying not to pass out at the same time?

(Lisa can, and that is why she is my hero.)

Yesterday, in Lisa's absence, I was forced to do my own calculations. Miraculously, I managed to keep track of the distances and intervals, but pace? Not so much. So I improvised. 10K pace became simply "a decently fast pace." 5K pace: run really fast. 3K pace: run 'till you think you might die and your lungs might explode from lack of air. 1K pace: might as well fly. My pace was all over the place, and I could almost hear Lisa saying "Oh! 1:47. That was too fast!"

Somehow I made it through the workout with only a tiny bit of whining (there's only so much complaining one can do while gasping for air). I'm pretty sure I can picture what an asthma attack feels like now... I suspect it's very similar to the track attack I had yesterday.