The night before I pored over the numbers, trying to figure out what the right strategy was, given how hard I had to push to meet my planned speedwork goals. I fell short on nearly every workout; I couldn’t hit the 1000 meter times, I had some kind of trouble on my tempos every time, I struggled getting in enough mile repeats, had injury scares… I put in the mileage, but this was not a particularly well-executed training cycle.
I opted to write two sets of splits down my arm; one to pace for a 1:49 and one to pace for a 1:45. I didn’t think for a moment I’d ever look at the 1:45 set.
Later, when the finish passed below my feet my body just shut down. I couldn’t breath. Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe–I wheezed, my lungs sucking for air and struggling to catch my breath. I could taste salty tears as they slid down my cheeks, and I could hear my sobs as if they were coming from someone else. It was over, and I had no idea how I did. Read more >>