We ran a mild warm up mile across the Taylor Southgate Bridge and onto Mehring Way. At a stoplight, our coach said "Do you guys want to do 2 loops or 3?" Obviously, I held up 3 fingers because hello, I was going to take on these fartleks-see above! ENTHUSIASM! Basically we did a half a mile loop at a very fast pace and then recovered by jogging the same half mile. The first loop I was thinking it was okay. At the end, there were 2 very slight inclines, but they were hard for me at that intense speed. I wanted to walk the half mile loop to recover, but instead I jogged to keep up with the group. I was at the very front and I was still going to do it right? After all, every Saturday, I've done my personal bests. On the second fast half mile I was feeling bad, like maybe I may barf bad.... I kept pushing myself and made it up those damn tiny inclines. Then I began jogging the loop even though I really.... I MEAN REALLY wanted to walk. I asked a guy from my group that I knew had done the marathon before if anybody had ever thrown up. He said, "I did in the summer group." I found this oddly comforting. At least if I threw up, I wasn't going to be the first. I began my last quick loop, quickly falling behind in my pace group. At the end, some people wanted to do another fartlek! What the heck? Are these people ironmen? I went back with the small group of us that were ready to go back home. As I jogged along, I was feeling awful. I began walking and watched the whole group pass me by. I started yelling at myself in my head, "Don't be weak. Stop giving up!" So then I began jogging again and my body was like nope. I once again thought I might throw up. I kept watching my group keep jogging, naturally not feeling good about myself. My coach had to stop to help someone who was injured and there was still the group that would be coming up behind me when they finished their fartleks so don't think I would have passed out by myself with nobody to help.
I was walking across the bridge and finally felt good enough to start jogging again. I did. As I came across the bridge, 3 younger guys were standing there and began shouting "Run Forrest Run!" They were relentless and just wouldn't give up. I wasn't in the mood. These stupid turds making fun of me were the motivation I needed to get to the finish line. Although it wasn't as good as a poster or someone shouting my name, it worked and I made it. It was about 4.5 miles. I am not sure of the pacing because my fitbit went crazy on me. It says one of my miles was 4 minutes and 38 seconds so apparently I'm an Olympian. I am hoping it doesn't need to be replaced.
I started talking to some people in my group about the blow to my ego. But I've been doing so good! But I'm running longer distances than I ever have before! But I try to stay with the front of the pace group! But I feel so great after each run! But I am woman, hear me roar! They were so encouraging. It was really nice to talk to them and realize that sometimes there will be days where running sucks. I haven't experienced that yet, so it was a shock to me. He also reminded me that night runs are hard because our bodies are tired from working all day. So true.
So my first experience with fartleks were a real fart. I'm recovering now. Although I was knocked down a pedestal today, it didn't make me want to quit or give up. It just reminded me that this is something that I really want and I know that the pain will be worth the feeling I have inside me when I cross the finish line. I've come so far. I'm not even close to the same person I was when I began this journey. For almost throwing up today, I am proud.
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