Slo Jo: Tempo Run vs. the Sloth

Today’s Run: 4 miles, tempo run

Outside Temperature: 90 degrees

Wine Consumption: 1 glass last night, unknown cabernet, but free, so no complaints here

Today’s run was a tempo run. According to “Run Less, Run Faster,” I should do a one-mile slow warm-up run, then run two miles at tempo, then do a one-mile cool-down run. According to the chart in the book, my tempo run (based on a 5K pace of 33 minutes) would be 10:54.

Here’s how it went:

Mile One: 12-minute mile pace. Felt like passing cars were wondering why I was going so slow. People were walking their three-legged Chihuahuas past me. Elderly ladies hobbled by me with their canes. (I can make fun of myself because this is the pace I started at before I did my half marathon, and it was hard for me then. It is nice to see improvement.)

(This chihuahua informs me she is a helluva lot faster than a 12-minute miler. I believe her. But no take-backs.)

Mile Two: 10:05 pace. Felt like a race horse ready to go after the slow first mile. It felt good to actually run. Towards the end of the mile, I thought, I wonder if I could hang on to this pace for 13 miles. That thought made me want to throw up. I was killing my 10:54 planned tempo pace. I may have to revisit what I think my 5k time is.

Mile Three: 10:20 pace. A little slower. I tried something my friend Coach has suggested—occasional running more slowly rather than walking to catch my breath. I was breathing harder, so I needed to slow the pace a little and run at the three-legged Chihuahua elderly-person-with-cane speed a while. Then I’d try to pick it back up.

During this mile, I thought about Toe-Shoes Tina’s blog entry where she said she had grit that enabled her to keep pushing through pain for three-minute intervals. I decided I am the opposite of Tina. I have a natural tendency to quit. I am like, “This really sucks. Why not slow down? Why not walk? Why not go home and do your favorite thing: sit? Or even better—lie in bed.”

(Most of the sloth pictures I found showed them hanging from trees, which seems to require some upper body strength that I do not have. This sloth is more like me in my natural state.)

One of my favorite web sites, The Oatmeal, discussed this tendency in a comic called, “The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances,” available here: http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running.  The author describes The Blerch, a “wretched, lazy beast” who follows him when he runs, telling him to slow down, walk, and quit. I know this Blerch. I am the Blerch. Tina is the Anti-Blerch, but she’s unusual. 

Mile Four: Bliss. Slowed to an 11:30 pace. It felt really good. Did a nice slow trek around my neighborhood and checked out everyone’s houses. Then I went home and made myself a nice glass of mean green juice and sat on my couch. My inner Blerch--or extra lazy sloth--was happy.