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The alarm goes off. I blink my eyes a couple of times.
4AM already?
I blindly reach in the dark for my phone to turn off the snoring sound (yes, my alarm is a snoring sound). I move my stiff legs and body off of the bed and to the bathroom where I find my shorts and socks waiting for me. I stare at them.
Do I really want to run this morning? 8 miles? Really?
I ignore my brain and change. I head downstairs for some oatmeal, a banana and some coffee – my legs are still sore and tight from Sunday’s hard, fast 18-miler.
This is gonna hurt.
I slowly down the pre-workout meal, delaying the inevitable. Part of me wants to go back to bed; part of me knows Boston is less than 5 weeks away. The schedule calls for 8 miles with 5 intervals of 600 meters at 5K race pace. I don’t have it in me to run outside this morning so I trudge down to the treadmill, trying to get my brain to convert the numbers into something I can use.
600 meters…400 meters is about a quarter mile…0.25…add half of that…0.375…how the hell am I supposed to use that?
I settle on running 0.40 mile intervals at the treadmill’s top speed (10mph) with a 0.20 mile recovery in between.
This is gonna hurt.
I pop the TV on and stretch a little, not really wanting to do this. At that moment, all I want to do is crawl back into bed and sleep for another 3 hours. I look at the clock – 4:35 – it’s time to go.
Pain. Not the sharp, oh crap I’ve injured myself kind of pain. Just pain.
Just under 57 minutes later I am done. Sweat is dripping off my body like I’m a hose with holes in it. I am spent.
But the endorphins kick in and I can’t remember that feeling I had before the run. I don’t remember NOT wanting to run.
All I know is DAMN! This feels good!!!
This definitely feels good.
Hope you got your feel good on today.
Run Luau Run 