Thursday, April 22, 2010

Dude, I'm a professional

My preference is always to run outside. However....sometimes, I must resort to the treadmill. With thunderstorms and (yes) even snowstorms, I had to move my workout inside.

'Twas a workout that I dread and on the dreadmill.

Even knowing a tough workout was in front of me, this morning I felt great. I've been rather particular about my diet lately, given that I am logging serious miles. (It only takes one serious BONK to remind us that we're only human).

The workout was 1600m repeats with 800m recoveries.

~mile repeats (in my ever-so-humble-opinion) are truly a test of a person's toughness. They require a certain level of endurance/fitness. Think about it, even if you only do 2 repeats, at a minimum, you're running about 5-6 miles.....and fast.

It's a workout that you have to work up to, over several years and have experience doing speedwork.

Because these suckers hurt.

As I arrived at the gym, I notice immediately how humid and hot the gym was. I live in Colorado. The only time I feel any humidity is when I get in the shower.

Fortunately, I brought alot of water.

As I was warming up, a guy jump on the treadmill next to me. For whatever reason, he is fascinated with my speed.....not that it's fast because it most certainly was not. He continued to speed up his workout: constantly comparing his console to mine. I'm used to people running faster than me on the treadmill. It's no big deal to me. When I run, I have a goal. Most of the time, gym runs are recovery runs for me. I never feel the need to prove myself. That happens on the race course.

Then, the warm up was over, and it was time to speed up. As I did, I noticed that he was watching me speed up the machine. Shortly thereafter, he sped his up to match my speed.

I just shake my head. What is up with that? Talk about NO respect. But given how this guy was panting, I'm pretty sure he thought I was doing 400's or maybe 800's....and he probably thought he could easily keep up with lil ole me.

My first thought, "Dude, you're gonna hurt yourself. Just admit, you're about to get chicked."

Just when I thought he was going to fly off the back of the machine, he slowed down to a walk. Me? I kept going.

Then, I did it again. Once again, he tried to keep up. After the 2nd interval, he got off.

After the 3rd, I saw him walk behind me looking at my console.

After the 4th interval, I saw him shake his head and finally walk off.

You all know me. I have a self-deprecating sense of humor. The reality is that I know where I stand, and I know what I'm capable of, but that doesn't mean that I go around bragging about it. That's because you get your a$$ kicked by a race or two, and you know anything can and often does happen. Having great races is often as much "chance" as it is "training". (Besides talking about stupid mistakes is waaaay more fun and get waaaay more laughs than a PR--satisfying maybe not, but damn funny, definitely).

Today that guy next to me, got a little lesson in


Respect the 40 something bee-yotch on the machine next to you.

If you don't, it's going to be YOUR ego mopping up the floor.