On Monday I was scheduled for a speed workout.
I know, I know, you're super surprised.
I'll be honest Monday wasn't a super day for me.
I was tired within an hour of getting out of bed. So I took a nap. Then I took another another one.
I felt so gross all day.
I was super sore from hiking down Mt. Washington (it was so much fun, and completely worth it!)
I did manage to score a little company from my friend Jackie though! She came out and ran a couple of miles at the track while I did my speed workout.
My workout was pretty straight forward and I wasn't actually all that concerned about it...which might explain why I totally bombed it.
1000 meters, 2000 meters, 1000 meters, 1000 meters (400 recovery)
The first issue was that I just figured that I would remember what my goal pace was.
My goal pace for the 1000 meters was 4:18, 2000 meters was 8:52
What I ran was 4:25, 8:29, 4:31, and...the last one is kind of messed up because I lost count of my laps and ran an extra 200 meters. so my 1200 meters was at 5:13.
I'll have to load the info to see what I can get as my real 1000 time.
Even though I felt like I was running really hard I missed my goals and felt kind of pukey the whole time. Afterwards I went home and sat in a hot bath and wished I had more junk food in the house.
For some reason I keep deciding it's a bad idea to bring it home...maybe something about the fact that I stop eating actual food and only eat the crap food until it's gone.
My default action for any kind of discomfort is to eat.
Nausea? I eat.
Sad? I eat.
Happy? I eat.
Tired? Feed me!
Running? I'm eating.
Angry? I'm SO eating.
I just like the taste of something, I could even be FULL, but I'll still eat it.
And people wonder why I run so much.