I’m not gonna lie – Tuesday’s obnoxious track high carried me pretty much through the whole week. By last night I was ready to run fast again. After a few weeks of Thursday hills, I was creepily looking forward to this week’s tempo run.
(Turns out I’m more of a ‘short and extremely painful’ run lover. That’s my run secret. LONG LIVE THE TRACK AND TEMPOS!)
So I laced up my kinvaras (still my “speed” shoe of choice) and slapped on my new Oiselle Violet Rogas ready for 6 miles with 4 at 7:20 tempo.
all of these ugly photos will come back to haunt me someday.
Most of the mile warm up was spent in severe denial and confusion.
“It’s the wind making this 8:50 feel so hard, right? Jesus how loud are my steps? I sound like a buffalo. A buffalo in pretty pink shorts. Oh god, is it really time to go now? F. Ok. Here we go, legs.”
These fast paces are still so foreign to my poor 4-hour-marathon legs. I mean, they definitely prefer running faster – stretch out the stride a little bit rather than keeping all 8 feet of them cramped up in conservative little distance strides – but they just don’t know what to do! 8 min? 6 min? They don’t know the difference until my lungs send a memo down south that they’re going to combust if we don’t cool it a little.
So I spent a lot of time watching Garmin. I’ve been told I’m supposed to be doing less of that (obsessing over times), but when the workout is built around a goal pace and your newborn legs don’t know the difference between a gallop and a sprint, it’s kind of hard.
Speed up, slow down, cruise… oops too slow. cruise… oops too fast. Repeat.
I’m hoping I’ll eventually be able to “feel” these paces a little easier, but for now a glance down at Garmin every 30 seconds will have to do. I mean, whatever, it worked.
7:17, 7:15, 7:06, 6:57
I’m majorly happy. Shout from the rooftops happy (ummm I have). Not just the splits, but that I felt strong physically AND mentally the whole run. I kept convincing myself to “just hang on! half way done! pick it up this last set! sprint the last 400m, comeon!!!”
No problem talking myself into hanging onto a lung-bursting, muscle-burning pace for 30ish minutes, but slow and steady for 3 hours? Fing forget it.
Anyways, the most important part of all this isn’t my run revelations or breaking tempo pace or how I look like I have a terminal illness without mascara. Nope. The real story is my new favorite shorts.
I major love these bad boys. They have a much cleaner cut than those saggy-ass Nikes, without feeling too form-fitted or constricting. The material is a heavenly silky something-another and they have the small little hip pocket on the inside AND a zipper pocket on the butt.
After getting a sneak peek of their beauty in Houston (and badgering Oiselle on Twitter for the impending release date every single day after) I had one TINY reservation before pulling the trigger.
I run with music. Almost all the time (unlike this girl). Clip iPod to waistband, thread under sports bra (to prevent bouncing/getting tangled in the wire), pop in earbuds. Shoes, Garmin, go. Auto-pilot.
The drama of finding a new iPod system with an un-foldable waistband was huge. Life-ruining, pretty much.
BUT I went against my non-risk-taking ways and bought them anyways. And guess what? Emily is a dirty liar. Def foldable.
imaginary earbud cord not threaded for visual effect. crotch shot complimentary.
So if you’re a waistband-folding, shuffle-jamming, Tempo-wearing, afraid-of-change freak like me, take this as your shove off the bridge. The rogas are your friend. BFF. Forever. Life. Anti-quitsies.
Oh and because I know you’re really wondering…
once again, eventual internet blackmail served on a platter
GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE RACING THIS WEEKEND! I’ve got a 12 miler and then a 5K on schedule tomorrow – If anybody’s running the Tustin Leprechaun Leap lets drink some green beer after. Cool? Deal.
I purchased these shorts on my own and was not compensated/bribed/or threatened to write these things by Oiselle or anybody else. You knew that though. OUaL says what OUaL wants.