micke-midlife on August 27th, 2008

i sure can say, i don’t like it, at least not right now, interval training… it’s the killer for all john does who

suddenly mean serious running business. it’s the stuff that separates the wheat from the chaff, the real wolf from the disguised lambs, the tough guy from the mollycoddle…

the plan said today 10 x 1000m in 3:35min, actually it said it for yesterday. already when i spotted this on my weekly schedule i felt my lungs burst, my legs hurt, my mouth dry, had to get a beer from the fridge. fortunately work was busy yesterday and there was a slight opportunity of procrastination without too much bad conscience, so i clinged to it at once, didn’t need second thoughts.

the consequences today, already in the morning while opening the eyes, the whiteboard as cruel as ever still showing in big fat letters what was left out the day before. and as if the weather gods new, they wanted to provide their lesson too, rain over finland’s capital region. didn’t help but to go out and show them all what real john does are made of. the session went as anticipated, with all the above described implications. is it called torture as well when you do it to yourself?

after six runs it was over, the stomach, starting to turn itself upside-down in run 5 and 6 from about 800 m to the finish, indicated that a lot of coffee and a bottle of enery drink does not replace hours of sleep. although admiring girls as audience on the side of the track, standing there in awe and glaring at me everytime i sweep past-by dynamically like a tiger in one swoooosh, got me almost persuaded to continue. but after all 6 out of 10 is not bad and there should be some room to improve next time - the Jelena Issinbajewa principle. and then there appeared mums and dads and picked up their 7 - 10 year olds from their soccer training and I was pretty alone on the track…

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