Broken
Friday, July 27, 2007
Unless I have something to plan for or around, I try not to look ahead at my workouts for the week. The reason for doing so is two-fold. First, if I don't look ahead, I won't be lulled into the 'ol "oh, I'll just switch Tuesday's workout with Thursday's, and maybe do part of Wednesday's on Friday, thus leaving me more time to..." routine. Secondly, honestly, looking ahead scares me. Overwhelms me. Sends me into a paralyzing panic.
So each morning, while getting ready for work, I take a peek at the binder I keep on my dresser to find out what's on tap for that day, and that day only. And how great was it when, this morning, I saw the following: 90-minute run?
Only an hour-and-a-half workout, and a run besides?!? I was jazzed.
After some serious pre-workout procrastination that often results because I am me, I suited up with my fuel belt, Garmin, and Ipod at 6 p.m. and set off.
The plan was to run along counter-clockwise around part of Lake Monona to a) avoid the teeming bike trails, and b) catch a bit of a breeze.
Happy to just be out for a run, and not a run following a bike or swim or a run sandwiched in-between obligations, I didn't even check my Garmin for the first mile or so. I was simply content to stretch my legs and to feel the sun and warm breeze on my skin. Some Shakira and a little Good Charlotte pumped through my earphones as I ran through lakeside neighborhoods surveying houses for sale -- a habit/hobby of mine.
And then, for good measure, I took a glance at the 'ol Garmin. 11:33. As in minute miles. What?!?!
Tapping it furiously, I reasoned that perhaps all the tree cover was getting in the way of the GPS. I'd just run a bit further, down to the park and open space, and check then. And when I did? 11:12. Again, as in minute miles.
My cheeks flushed. I was instantly angry. All that money for a Garmin and here it up and broke on me. I tapped it harder. Then I picked up my pace. And sure enough, the numbers dropped.
Every few feet I'd check again, but unless I was on a downslope, I never dropped below 10 minute miles. And then, I began thinking that it wasn't the Garmin that was broken -- it was me.
Pre-Green Bay Marathon, I easily kept an 8:30 to 9 minute mile pace. Not exactly Speedy Gonzales, but for me, comfortable and easy. No trying. No effort. That was just the pace I locked in to every time.
The problem was, I felt great. I had a bit of a headache, but other than that, my legs/hip/body felt fine. I wasn't winded. I didn't feel sluggish. I was just slow as hell and had no idea why. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Ever.
I was a few breaths away from a meltdown when I suddenly got all zen and decided not to care. I reminded me that at least I was running. I was getting the time in, and spending 1.5 hours moving forward is money in the bank, regardless of how maddeningly-slow going it was. So I made a deal with me that I wouldn't look at my Garmin any more, except to confirm when I'd reached the 4.5 mile marker. After that, not at all.
At 4.5 miles, I turned around and turned off my Garmin. I briefly entertained the idea of running the whole lake -- 12 miles and change -- but then decided that was ridiculous. First, I didn't need to do 12 miles. Second, my hip was starting to twinge. And third, it would take me freakin' forever to do 12 miles at this pace. It would end up being my entire Friday night.
As it was, it took me forever to cover 9 miles. Roughly one hour and 42 minutes. Ugh. It's hard to even write that.
Upon my return, Chief of Stuff asked how my run was. "Best and worst run ever," I said. And it was. It was great to be outside, to be running on a Friday night, to only have running to do. But damn was I slow! I told him about checking my Garmin, about running an 11:30 minute mile when I thought I was clipping along at 9 minute miles or so.
"Maybe your Garmin is broken -- the calibration could be off," he said.
I laughed. Told him how I thought that, too. But no, it was just me. My calibration was off.
"Well it's nine miles," he said.
Nine miles, in the bank. One month to go.
Posted by Erin 9:04 PM
We'll have those days, I guess. At least we're not alone.
(I still can't bring myself to turn off my Garmin though!)