Boot Camp ended this week and I wanted to run my timed mile in under 7 minutes. That was my goal. I got a chest cold on Thursday morning, the day before the run, but I figured I could still pull it off. I also wanted 60 pushups in the push-up test. I did 40 on the intake test and ran a 7:39 mile in 18 degree weather.
I figured these were challenging but still reasonable goals for improvement. I worked my ass off in camp, posted a perfect attendance record, and ate reasonably well. I wanted to see the results.
By the time I hit Friday morning I had already worked about 55 hours that week. My immune system was beleaguered from the stress and long hours. I woke up at 4:30am and put on all my favorite cold-weather running clothes: sugoi tights, high-school running bra (still my favorite), wife beater, long-sleeve, loose-fitting running shirt, pearlizumi headband. I threw Sam’s North Face flight-series anorak over the top for good luck and added stripey, stretch gloves for hand warmth. Downstairs I found my water bottle, apple and ipod mini just where I’d set them out. The mini was already set to play Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” at full blast on repeat.
I was nervous [but on the surface I looked calm and ready].
I was quiet and focused during warm-up until the start of the run. I kept reminding myself to cut slack, take off some of the pressure. “This is what you do.” I told myself. “This is what you’re good at. Relax.”