6 X 1000 = OMG

For all the marathon training I’ve endured, I’ve never included speedwork in my program. In fact, other than just running a whole lot every week, I haven’t included much of anything. I started training from a Xeroxed copy of a mileage chart from Jeff Galloway’s book, Marathon: You Can Do It! The chart fell under the heading, “Running a Marathon: To Finish.” After finishing ten marathons, I think it’s time for a new chart.

So we all gathered at the Austin High track and Gilbert sorted us into groups. Gilbert put me in the first group and dutily informed me we’d be running six 1000’s. As he shoved us off, Gilbert decreed a 7:00/mi. I had no idea what that meant over six 1000’s. Would that be tough or what? I just followed the group and hoped everything would work out. Other than initially blanking on how many laps 1000 meters is (400m is one lap, so that’s what, like three laps?!), the first interval went smoothly. I could do this six times.

Right??

Two and three go by and, while it’s getting tougher, I still feel in control. After the fourth, I’m spending my cool down period hogging the Accelerade, blocking people from actually getting to it. I am sweating an ungodly amount. I hold on through the fifth, staying in the middle of the pack and thinking I have just enough to squeak out a 7:00/mi. for a sixth time. As we lumber back onto the track and get in our now half-assed starting positions, Gilbert announces, “Okay, guys, for this last one, you are going to DROP THE BOMB!”

What?

Qu’est que c’est, “Le Bomb?”

I ask a fellow Gazelle what that means.

”It’s when you run really fast, much faster than your previous pace.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I hadn’t planned for that. Had I received some notice . . . “

And the group has left me.

I instinctively lurch forward and begin the catch-up game. Man, this sucks. I gradually move about halfway through the pack. I did not leave enough in the tank for this. My form is ridiculously bad, I am flailing my arms, and my head is bouncing around like one of those bobblehead things. The people in front of me begin to RUN FASTER. WTF, dudes! I make it into a line of about seven runners by the end of the second lap. As we round the final turn, Gilbert calls out TO ME and ME ALONE, “Robert, watch your form! You are leaning to the side!” Tell me about it. At this point though it’s hard for me to do that and breathe at the same time. On the final straightaway, the first three runners air it out and I, attempting to stay with them, feel my breakfast make a move upward. I put on the brakes and one or two people pass me as I reach 1000.

That. Was. Tough.

I walk around the track toward Gilbert to give him my times, self-consciously maintaining perfect form. (I can at least walk right, can’t I? Can’t I??) First five were in the 4:20-4:10 range, and the sixth came in at 3:39. I earn a sincere “Good job” from Coach, which gives me a nice lift. I stumble onto the trail for the two-mile lug back to RunTex, and reflect on how running with the Gazelles makes my mornings feel so productive. I get all excited pondering lunch options. Then I realize it’s 7:00am.