A couple of weeks ago I wrote that I started doing speedwork again (Here is my post in case you missed it). As of Christmas week, there is a treadmill in our apartment. It prevents me from making excuses. There’s nothing getting in my way of what I’m supposed to do now except me. So, for the last 3 weeks, I’ve forced myself to do speed sessions once a week.
During preseason basketball at West Point, we were timed running miles on the track – my miles were always around 7:00. When I was on the Fort Hood Army 10-miler Team, we did track workouts 1x/week – my miles dropped to 6:15-6:25. I got my miles down to 6:10 when I was deployed to Iraq in 2007-2009. That’s been my personal record (PR) until last week.
I ran my fastest mile ever last Thursday (5:59). This week, I planned to run 5x mile repeats. I woke up tired, sore, and not in the mood to do miles on the treadmill. I debated doing them right up until the moment I stepped on the treadmill – I secretly wanted to crawl back into bed for the next hour. But I know myself and knew that I would regret my decision all day…so I got on.
Although I didn’t run all 5x repeats (my son woke up during the recovery of my 3rd), I managed to beat my time from last week…and then ran another mile even faster.
6:06, 5:58, 5:56
TWO miles under 6!?!? Last week was the first time I ever saw a “5” before a mile pace. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m starting to believe I can run this fast [my goal for my first mile race is < 5:45) or that the speedwork is already paying off. Maybe a little bit of both?
walked danced into my son’s room (extremely sweaty) to greet him from his morning nap, I kept thinking about how happy I was from my consecutive PRs just moments before. Nothing could top that. My morning was made.
And then I saw my son.
My happy, spirited, loving, sweet little boy standing in his crib – smiling and babbling at ME. Happy to see ME!
And realized that nothing will EVER top him. Even if I had a terrible run, all I need to do is look at him smiling at me and everything is okay. He makes me forget the good and bad – and realize that what’s important is the little boy standing right in front of me.
I’m beyond excited that I PR’d (twice) yesterday.
But he beats 2x PRs any day.
Have you done a mile race before? How’d you do??