Run, Megan, Run!!

We've reached a Happy Medium, G. the Meanie and I.

I've been feeling like I need to run every day, but this week, G. allowed that I do need days off to rest and recover. So the expectation now is five days a week. This is doable! One day is a long-distance run. G.'s definition of "long distance" is five to seven miles...I'm thinking more like four to five miles. Two days a week I should be running two to three miles, and two days a week I need to do sprints.

Sprints started off as a fifty-yard dash behind the gym, then one hudred yards (TOUCHDOWN!!), then one hundred-fifty yards. As of Wednesday, sprints are a quarter of a mile.

Oy vey.

Anyway, today, I dutifully started sprinting behind the gym, determined to make that quarter of a mile. It became apparent quite quickly that I was slowing down like a little wind-up toy running out of steam. I was not going to sprint a quarter of a mile; I was going to sprint fifty yards and pitifully jog the rest.

Though I'm not a huge fan of the treadmill these days--for my longer runs, it's just so much more enjoyable to be outside, with changing scenery--I decided that for sprints, I should use it to keep myself honest. So for the first time in months, I hopped on the treadmill and got running.

When I first started running--really running, not that half-assed attempt at running I gave with C. the Sweetie last summer--in January, I would crank the speed of the treadmill up to about 4.5 miles per hour, and if I made it to a quarter of a mile at that speed, I was doing really well. Usually, however, I wimped out at one tenth of a mile, and did some power walking instead.

Imagine the self-satisfaction I'm feeling tonight, having whipped out a couple of two-tenths at 7.0 and 7.5--which is positively flying for a lady of 5'2" and rather bulky thighs. After the sprints, I slowed to 5.5 and ran slower to allow my heart to calm down, then slowed to 3.8 (power walking) to further calm down before attempting it again. The sweat was flowing in rivers down my face and back, but I was feeling very, very good.

G. the Meanie was impressed. When I'm outside, I can't maintain that speed without him getting next to me and putting his hand on my back, pushing me along. The treadmill keeps me honest. Also, according to G., I've never run that fast outside with him, so he was very pleased that I pushed myself and maintained it for two-tenths of a mile--very close to that quarter of a mile he had asked of me.

I am Runner, hear me...pound pavement?