A small thrill

I've been on a high since my run yesterday evening. I wasn't sure how far I'd go, but figured on somewhere between 8 and 10km. My daughter has swim training a few evenings a week now, and it's out near some of my favourite trails, which makes running a pleasure. I set off feeling very light of heart and fleet of feet, for reasons unknown. At the 1km mark, I noticed that I'd run just under 5 minutes/km, which is fast for my opening kilometre -- I tend to start slow and speed up as I warm up.

I passed a group of university students training for cross country. I didn't want any of them to catch up to me, so I really hoofed it through the woods. Next thing I knew, I'd run the second kilometre in 4:33. This is unheard of for me. I never break the 4:40 mark. The third kilometre was a touch slower, in the 4:40s, but the fourth kilometre was back to 4:37, and I thought, oh my goodness, I'm on track for my fastest 5km run ever. I absolutely hoofed it for the next kilometre: 4:22. I've never seen that time before. I didn't even know that I could run that fast, honestly. Overall, I'd done 5km in 23:18, my fastest ever recorded.

But I was out in the woods, still far from the end point. I took a minute to walk and get my heart rate calmed down. I began jogging again, figuring hey, I'll just run this out, however long it takes me to get back, no need to speed. But then I saw that kilometre six was at 5:36, which is really not that slow, considering I'd walked for a full minute. I realized that my "slow" pace was actually pretty fast, it just felt slow compared to the blistering 4:20 time. So I thought, hey, let's go for a fast 10km and see what happens.

I must add that I was pushing extremely hard throughout this run. I was breathing rapidly, and it was not easy.

I kept the next three kilometres well under 5 minutes, but I was really going to have to push it to get in under 48 minutes, which was my goal -- as that's my fastest 10km time ever (and that was recorded in a race). There was a huge hill at the start of the last kilometre, but I was running past the university kids, whose workout was apparently already over. I pushed it up the hill and just kept pushing it. In fact, I was downright sprinting at the end, and I made it!!! 10km in 47:56. I realize that's not blistering for real runners, but it's blistering for me.

I came home completely thrilled.

And got up this morning and ran another 9km with my friend -- we go so slowly that we covered that 9km in 55 minutes. But we talk. There would be no talking at the other pace.

I don't know why I love finding speed. I don't know why I get such a rush from pushing myself in ways that can only be described objectively as "hard" or "unpleasant" or "painful." I'm getting the sense that running faster is not just about getting fitter physically, but about being willing to push one's body well beyond comfort levels, to keep pushing even though everything is saying "stop!" It's a mental strength as much as a physical one. I love the days when I'm mentally strong enough to push myself like that.

And I'm not doing the marathon, or the half. I have a big reading the day before, and those drain me, mentally. And I haven't put on the necessary mileage. But I'm going to keep enjoying these speed runs nevertheless, and hope to sign up for some longer races this winter.

Running. It really feeds something in me.

Run for the Toad, thoughts on the race one week later

Well, I finished 188th out of 750 finishers (men and women), and 54th out of 421 women finishers. My time was two minutes slower than last year, a very respectable 2:20:54. The numbers would suggest that I did very well, all things considered. So why, I asked my husband, did I feel after the race like I'd had a less-than-stellar run? Why was I disappointed in my efforts?

I think, sometimes, that my expectations will always be too high, and it's just part of my personality. It's inborn. Luckily, these high expectations never seem to prevent me from trying, even when I know I'm likely to fail. But I also can feel very disparaging of my own efforts when I fall short of these expectations. What I don't understand is why the disparagement isn't discouraging. Because it really isn't. Maybe it's even motivating in some strange way.

Maybe that's how my psyche works: expect great things, work hard, fail to meet expectations, work harder.

I ran a fair bit this week. I did a very fast 5km run on an indoor track after buying new shoes. (One of the unfortunate things about the Toad was that my shoes started blistering my feet about halfway through; the last half of the race I could just feel those blisters getting bigger and bigger -- and they really hurt, which didn't help my morale.) Anyway, on Tuesday I tested the new shoes on the track, to make sure they fit well, in case I wanted to return them. I was on a high after getting terrific news that day (that my book was a finalist for a major Canadian literary award), and I kept up a blistering pace, despite the hockey kids playing on the track.

I also ran Wednesday morning with a friend (9km).

The "spittlebell" class on Thursday morning felt easy ... my usual weight felt light, but I didn't want to tell the instructor lest he hand me something heavier. Maybe it was just lightness of heart.

Today, Sunday, I went for a long run, still in hopes of being fit enough to run the Hamilton marathon in a few weeks, although I'll admit my hopes are diminishing. I want to run fast, and I can tell that the pace I'd like to hold is currently out of reach. I don't think the distance, persay, is out of reach, but I'd have to hold to a slower pace, and I kind of don't want to. I'm considering signing up for the half-marathon instead, and trying to tear through that distance. (But I'd still like to do the marathon, honestly. Wish I had an extra month to train.)

I ran 18km, keeping pretty close to a 5:15/km pace, sometimes a bit less, and on one or two kilometres toward the end, a bit more. I ran 18km in 1:33. (Just checked, and that's a 5:16 pace.) I don't think I could sustain that over another 20-odd kilometres, frankly -- at least I couldn't have today -- and I'd have to average even slightly faster to break last year's time. Why do I want to break last year's time so badly?? Well. I'm not sure. I think it relates back to that expectations thing.

I won't sign up for the marathon unless I can get in a good long long run, something over 30km. For tapering purposes, I'd need to get that in next weekend. It's not impossible, but it seems unlikely. My husband is working all day Saturday, and my eldest daughter has a swim meet to which I have to travel, taking the other three kids along. AND I think I may even have a soccer game that Sunday. Good grief. I'm in Vancouver the following weekend.

Hm.

But I did a good job at the Toad! A week past the event's running, I can now feel genuinely proud at my effort and my results. It wasn't such a bad race after all.

I'm thinking of signing up yearly, as a seasonal almost ritual event, no matter what's happening in my life. I really like that race.