
T THIS MOMENT, I have no running coach at my field and track club. The club is searching for a new coach, but they don't grow on trees, and it, therefore, takes time to find a suitable person who is willing to coach the bunch of old geezers that makes up our running team. We like to run longer distances, up to a marathon.
Anyway, at this moment we are training ourselves with a simple training schedule for the two weekly training sessions we do together. On Tuesdays, we run a long run of approximately an hour, and on Thursdays, we do interval training. The long run is led by one of us, on a rotating schedule. So I can decide how the team is running once every so many weeks.
The Tuesday before last Tuesday, a runner who is one of the fitter runners in our team, did a trail run in a rather fast pace, I could just keep up with. Unfortunately, I twisted my ankle one time, and fell flat on my face (with dirt all over my face and in my mouth) another time during this race-like training. At the end (50 minutes into the run), three of us had to bail out, because they couldn't keep up. Luckily, I could, just.
Some would find this frustrating, but I didn't. I found this training session to be very stimulating. I didn't give up, although there were two very good reasons (twisted ankle, dirt all over me) to do so.
Last Tuesday, we did a 30 minutes vice and 30 minutes versa run on a road (bicylce lane). The goal was to run 30 minutes at a constant pace, turn, and run back along the same route, in 30 minutes. We would meet up after 60 minutes at the same point where we started.
Although I'm the most overweight (read: I'm the obese guy in our team) runner, this didn't stop me from not being the last runner. I started slowly, because I knew from experience, that the last kilometers in the return stretch were going to be just as slow (but much less comfortable). My objective was to run as much distance as I was able to put behind me in 60 minutes.
I was able to do it. I ran 11.55K in 1:00:09. This is comparable with my 10K result on
July 8, 2007. Those 9 seconds too late at the finish are really nothing, compared to the 1 minute or so too soon others in my team reached the finish line. There was only one runner who was closer to the one hour mark; he had run it in 1 hour and 5 seconds.
I think these are two instances of training sessions I'm very proud of. Not that the results are so earth shattering (even for my standards), but because I didn't give up and showed some character.
Being proud of one's accomplishments is a very important part of running, which runners tend to forget about in their pursuit of faster times in races, and the frustration of not reaching their goals. Sometimes just doing what you're supposed to be doing, dealing with the setbacks you encounter--instead of complaining about it--is satisfying in its own right. You don't win any medals, or even raise eyebrows, but you know in your own mind you did it, and you did your best, and no one can take that away from you, whatever they say to you.