Un-buh-leeeeeeev-a-bull!
I’m so proud and egotistical this morning. It’s all about today’s gym stuff.
Should I be proud that my workout was crappy? Hell no. I wasn’t really hitting my marks with lifting, but that happens after 3rd shift days. I just can’t recharge the way I used to. Or rather, I can function great, but I can’t do over-the-top efforts, and that’s where my workout is pegged right now. So, let me write that off.
But let’s talk about running.
You might’ve read that I’ve been doing lots of interval sprint training, right? I’m doing that three times a week, and have been for a week or two. But, I was doing this to burn fat and lose weight. I wasn’t really doing it for my running, per se.
Today, I ran on the track inside the gym. There’s a woman I call Motley Crue woman, because she has super-bleachy hair and an uber-tan, and she’s really damned in shape, but her running style is a little bit mopey. I’m usually up to par with her, speed-wise. Then, there’s Egg Man, who’s this guy who wears the same white running clothes every time, and who’s bald, and generally fast as all hell. There’s also Geraldo Gone Bad, this guy who looks like Geraldo Rivera gone the way of Ho Ho’s. He’s faster than me, too. Finally, and this guy comes in later, there’s some guy I’ve never seen who’s taller than me, Frankenstein tall, and pretty powerful fast.
I ran faster than ALL of these people today.
And no, not just once. I passed them all once and just figured I was pacing a little too fast for my own good. But I didn’t slow down. I just kept running. And I lapped them again. Hey, I think. This isn’t normal. Egg Man *always* runs faster than me. I usually mentally white him out of the gym and pretend I’m alone on the track. And then I lap them all again. And I feel STRONG, by the way. I’m not sucking wind and dying. And… I lap them AGAIN.
So, I’m feeling all kinds of great. I’m thinking, WOW! I’m kicking these folks’ ASSES! (They, by the way, aren’t aware that I’m racing them. They’re just working out and being good people.) But then, Frankenstein gets on the track. And he is huge. His stride is something like five times longer than mine. Mind you, I run like a geisha. You could tie my shoelaces together and it wouldn’t change my form.
I see Frankenstein coming up fast. I’m thinking, “well, there goes my rare, first ever feeling of track dominance.” And then, Coach says, “You’ve gotta make him EARN it.” Okay, I think. And I run even harder still.
I kept ahead of him for four more laps, and then decided I’d had enough running and came off the track. Not because he was right behind me. I kept him 1/4 track away the whole run.
Yeah. So. I was really fricken’ fast today, and I felt powerful, and I felt like, “holy shit, that interval sprint stuff really *does* work!”
I’ll get over myself shortly, I’m sure. : )
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