Goal: 8 x 200m then 1 mile at sub 6:30 then another 8 x 200m
Well that was a complete cock up.
It all started so well too. I trotted up and down the path and did a nice little warm up run, then measured the 200m* from a big blue signpost and drew a line on the path with a stone as my finish line. See – all organised. Feeling smug, I jogged back carefully to my blue signpost – my starting line – and took a deep breath and set off.
I’d estimated that my speed would have to be just slightly less effort than a flat out sprint, so started off feeling like a smaller, more feminine version of Usain Bolt (although I quite sure I looked Insane rather than Usain with my mad eyes fixed on my finish line and arms waving like mad) however the distance seemed a lot further than I’d expected. I got about two-thirds of the way and I still had much further to go.
My legs started going on strike and refused to maintain the speed and I started slowing down coming up to the finish like. Well that was a LOT harder than I’d expected. Checked my Garmin. 57 seconds. Really?! I was supposed to be starting these intervals every minute, I was completely whacked and I was expected to have THREE SECONDS recovery?
I’d obviously been hopelessly slow. There was no way I could set off at that pace again with 3 seconds recovery. I wasn’t sure I could do that distance at that pace again with 3 MINUTES recovery. Definitely not another 15 repeats with a fast mile in the middle.
I just couldn’t do it.
I decided to cut this session short and find a hill to run up instead. I set off up Hardingstone Hill and while puffing and panting my way up the top, it struck me. I suddenly twigged why I couldn’t do the 200s ... because they weren’t 200s ...
I’d measured the distance out on my Garmin but I’d set it in miles so I’d measured 0.2 miles* not 200 metres for the interval. Ah. Whoops. Instead of running 200m, I’d run 320m. No wonder a) it took me bloody ages. B) why I couldn’t maintain the pace and c) why my legs were most definitely telling me they weren’t doing another 15 repeats at that pace over that distance.
Oh well. I carried on running up the hill. The run wasn’t a disaster. It was just going to be a different session to the one I’d originally planned. With less intervals. And more hills.