Tempo Joke

So I met some of my usual running buddies this morning for Thursday tempo.  I have to start making myself run faster in order for it to start feeling easier.  If I want to get back to where I was, I need to push myself.

Taking 6 months of time to run almost always while wearing a weight vest or a pack DID NOT work wonders for my speed.  In case anyone reading was thinking that would be a good idea.

Instead, my slower, 40 pound heavier pace, has become quite lovely and I don't want to leave it. 

But I do.  I want to get back to running with my old buddies.  I want to set some PRs.  I want my morning runs to be done in less than a hour (unless it's a longer distance).  I want to get that "out of breath, sweaty, worked hard" feeling. 

Oh, and I'm supposed to start coaching a marathon group back at my old pace in about 10 days.  Yikes!  Guess maybe I'll be building up right along side the people I coach! 

Anyway, Tuesday I met a friend returning from injury, and I went to the track solo to run a single 800 followed by a single 400. 

Today I decided to meet up for the tempo run.  It went just as I expected.  I ran at a hard for me effort with them for 3 miles, the length of the warm-up.  Then everywhere around me, including on my own wrist, watches started chiming to mark the completion of 3 miles. 

And then they dropped me. 

If I were more awake, I'd try to come up with some metaphor or simile here.  Like a hot potato.  But better and funnier.  But I'm tired.  We met to run at 5 a.m., which is a solid 15 minutes earlier than I ever run usually, and 15 minutes makes a big difference. 

So I ran 3 fast for me miles with friends, then 1 fast for me mile solo, then I dropped a bit to my coaching pace and ran until I found my husband, and speed-walked home with him.  He's not running right now b/c something in his quad is bothering him.  So all told, I got in just over 5 miles.  Not a lot for a morning, especially considering in just a week or two, I should be regularly hitting 8 miles most weekday mornings. 

But at least it's progress.  I really wanted to sleep in and skip the run today.  There has been some major office-wide stress happening, and it should crest hopefully at the end of next week.  Last night I'd worked kind of late, came home for dinner, and pretty much went straight to bed, but it was still too late for me to get close to 8 hours of sleep.  It was probably less than 7 hours, which I hate. 

But I did it.  And that's the only way it will get easier.  Maybe next week, I won't feel like I'm dying during the warm-up, and maybe I'll even be able to run a quarter or so at tempo pace.  Or not, but at least I can try. 

Baby steps, baby steps...