Today's long run with the liver team was probably one of my top ten best runs ever. I'm not quite sure I could actually name any of the other 9 runs on that made-up list, but regardless, today's run was incredible. Sylvia appears to have heeded my advice to get lost.
This week was a step-back week, meaning less mileage than the previous week. However, instead of the regular "all at easy pace" guidance, it was "6 E, 6 M". I took out my trusty athlete guide and learned that this meant 6 miles at my Easy pace (I'm really good at that one) and 6 miles at my Marathon pace. A few weeks ago, I did a carefully crafted track workout and my coach punched those times into her magic calculator which generated a whole bunch of pace guidance for me to use. The Easy pace range is about what I've been running, and I just did a quick glance at the rest; then I put it away, until yesterday when I looked up my Marathon pace. My Marathon pace range is about a minute and a half per mile faster than my Easy pace. I immediately emailed my coach, because clearly this was wrong.
She responded that yes, indeed, these were the correct paces. Then she backed it up with common sense, like if I always run slow, then I'll never run fast. She also reminded me that I was only running 6 of those miles at the M pace, not the full 26.2. Geez, this chick is good at logic AND math! In addition, she also gave me her vote of confidence. She said, "I think you are capable of far more than you think you are!" I really wanted to believe this, so I decided to put it to the test.
I re-read her email this morning before the run. I had those paces committed to memory and felt confident in the plan and how to execute it. I even had a running partner (Jennie, of Run Jennie Run fame) who was committed to this plan for today. We ran side by side, comparing paces on our Garmin watches, telling each other that we knew the other one could do it. We were slightly ahead of pace for the first 6 miles. We probably said at least twice each mile, "we should slow down a little", but we also both knew that we felt good, so we just kept going, careful not to get any faster, but not really succeeding at slowing down. As we neared the 6 mile mark, I think we both got increasingly nervous for the "turn & sprint" that we felt was looming. Actually, I wasn't sure if I would turn & sprint, or if I would turn & run even slower. Regardless, it was obvious that the fear of what would happen when we turned around was worse than what actually happened when we turned around.
And so, we turned around, and nothing bad happened. And we ran a little faster than we had been. And it felt good. A quick consultation of our Garmins revealed that we might even be running too fast. We slowed down a little, and just like that we were in the groove. We paused at a stop light for a minute or so, and once more at the water stop (staffed oh-so-generously by volunteers who support our Run for Research team). We eventually separated for the last couple of miles, but I was able to stick to my plan even without someone else's physical presence to keep me going. My last 6 miles averaged over 1 minute per mile faster than my first 6 miles, so the plan was a success. The best part is that I did what I didn't think I could do. It took a coach to convince me that it might be possible, and a running partner to stick with me to keep Sylvia at bay. I should not be my own coach, or my only running partner. I think I'll leave those jobs to these people that are clearly more qualified than I am. All I need to do is the footwork.
You rock...!
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