Yesterday I had one of those rare days where the Running
Gods smiled on me. These are the types of days that every runner hopes for, the
days when everything is easy, when running the pace that you are supposed to
hit is effortless, these days when you go a little longer than you need to just
because it feels so good to run.
In case you missed it, the weather here in Michigan is
absolutely frigid. Anyone who knows me knows how much I truly dislike cold
weather. How cold was it? It was so cold that Hell froze over.
For those who aren’t local, Hell is a little town south of
here with some of the best trail running in the area. But you won’t see me on those frozen trails.
In fact, I am rarely spotted outside at all in this weather. My first winter
here I joyfully embraced winter – at first – until I found out just how cold it
was and how it just went on and on. But enough about the cold, let’s get back
to the Running Gods and my workout.
Me joyfully embracing winter the first year (before I found out what a pain it really is) |
You may remember one of my earlier posts where I confessed to being a
running pagan. I believe wholeheartedly in a pantheon of Running Gods of
various shapes, sizes, and temperaments that when they are not otherwise
occupied (no doubt watching reruns of great running races or filling race
directors’ minds with particularly nasty courses) deign to meddle in the lives
of mere mortal runners such as you and me. No runner is immune from their
influence (although many may deny their existence).
My workout yesterday was a lactate threshold workout, 35
minutes continuous at lactate threshold pace. I have really been struggling
with these runs lately, which is out of character for me. These have long been
my favorite workouts on the schedule. I just naturally love running at that
pace. However, I had been neglecting these types of runs in the last year, and
as I got back to serious training this fall, these workouts were both painful
and frustrating.
I approached the treadmill and began warming up feeling that
it would be another difficult and lackluster performance, but then as I pushed
it up to pace and started the harder part of the workout a miraculous thing
happened. It felt good. It felt easy. The Running Gods were smiling. I waited
10 minutes to be sure it wasn’t just a cruel prank on their part (like the
Greek gods, they are not above that type of thing), and then cautiously pushed
up the pace a bit. It still felt easy.
After another cautious 10 minutes I
pushed the pace back again. I still wasn’t struggling. It was amazing. At the
end of that 10 minutes I pushed it back one more time. The last five minutes of
the workout still felt good. In fact, just in the last few minutes a song I
love started on the video that was providing the background (Jimmy Buffett live
in Wrigley Field), so I just kept going, for three more minutes. Even then, I
didn’t want to stop, but I knew I should. "If only this would happen on race days," I thought, but then quickly brushed that thought from my mind. To seem ungrateful for the gifts that are given can bring wrath from the aforementioned temperamental and easily-offended Running Gods.
Now I know what some of you might be thinking: "there are no Running
Gods, and there is a reasonable explanation for this. You have been training
steadily for six weeks now and progress was bound to happen. You have done some
good workouts in the past that laid the foundation for a breakthrough run. It
is all physiology."
Well, you can think that if you want, but to do so is to
take away the enchantment of the moment. This explanation may leave the
intellect satisfied, but it leaves the soul without sustenance. In the spirit
of my Resolution 3, I will stay enchanted.
So, yesterday, while the wind howled and Hell froze over,
the Running Gods smiled. Have the Running Gods been smiling on you?
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