In January, I joined the racing team sponsored by one of Chicago’s chains of running stores. There are lots of great benefits associated with it: running gear, organized fun runs, discounts on race registrations, a couple of magazine subscriptions, and chances to test out new merchandise. But there was one perk in particular that sold me on joining the team: weekly speed workouts with a professional trainer.
I knew these workouts would be very beneficial for me. Despite the fact that I ran 8 races last summer, doubled my race length, and took a full minute off my mile time, one sad truth remains: I really know nothing about running. I know nothing about the benefits of cross training, speed bursts, or long versus short runs. My goal this season is to finish the rock and roll half-marathon on August 2 – an ambitious goal to say the least – and I’ve already pushed the limits of what I can do on my own. I knew I needed help, and these speed workouts seemed like a good start. So, I told myself that I’d wait out the coldest months, then start going to the weekly Wednesday night sessions starting in March.
As March grew closer, I became more and more nervous, and I was forced to confront the fact that despite my enthusiasm, deep down I was terrified. A big piece of me really wanted to go to the speed workouts, but all I could think about was the very real possibility that I would be the slowest runner present, or worse, that what I would be asked to do would be beyond my abilities altogether. So I knew that I willing myself to go would be no small thing.
When I left work yesterday, I began chanting to myself, I will go to speed training. I will go to speed training. I changed into my running clothes and soon as I got home, and left early, knowing that if I waited around I might use the possibility of being late as an excuse to not go. After a short period of waiting at the store, finally we took off on our warm up run to the training site (a parking lot about a mile away), and I felt a bit better. I was there, and on my way, and no matter how bad it was, it would be over in an hour.
Sad to say, that cheeriness didn’t last long. As I followed the other team members to the parking lot, I found that I could barely keep up with their warm-up pace. I instantly felt conspicuous and self-conscious. Oh God, I thought. I am out of my league. This is going to be embarrassing. They all must be wondering what I think I am doing here. I finished the warm up a couple hundred feet behind everyone else, wondering whether I should just leave now. But I didn’t. I stuck it out, and I am SO glad that I did.
Once at the training site, we met up with the coach, who explained the first task. Start at this lamppost. For a third of the distance to the next lamppost, crabwalk facing one direction. For the second third, crabwalk facing the other direction. For the last third, run backward. Then sprint the whole distance back (maybe 75 m?) at a pace faster than your 5K pace. Repeat four times.
And, we were off. I fully admit that even in this funny running style, I was the slowest one there, by far. But you know what? I was having so much fun doing that drill that I barely noticed. There were a few super serious people there who did the drills with intense scowls on their faces, but most other people were laughing at themselves, just like me. My nerves faded.
When everyone was finished, the coach explained the second, more lengthy, and much more ambitious part of the workout. Run, at a challenging pace, down to the second stop sign (200 m). Let your heart rate recover to about 120 beats per minute. Then run back and do another recovery. Run one more 200 m stretch, then jog onto the cement path and turn right. Run aggressively up the hill to the Grant statue, then jog back down at an easy pace. Run up and jog down two more times. Then jog back to the parking lot and run another 200 m back to the starting point.
That sounded ambitious enough for me, but you’ll never guess what he said after that…. “That’s one set. Do that three times.” Oy.
I had a feeling I would only be able to finish two sets in the time it took everyone else to finish three, but I gave it a shot anyway. My 200 m sprints were indeed the slowest, by a noticeable margin, but my recoveries were shorter, so I was able to finish the first set of 200 m sprints only a minute or two behind. The hill was another story, however. I’ve really never run on hills, and after running up two times, I was hurting, and I fell further behind. Just like that, I became very self-conscious again. I had yet to talk to anyone – people seemed to all know each other and not be interesting in socializing much – and as I started my way up the hill the third time, I wondered if anyone would notice if I only did two sets. But then, as the rest of the group passed me, on their way down as I still was working my way up, one woman about my age smiled at me and said, “Nice job.”
I don’t know why, but this reinvigorated me. I reached the top of the hill, jogged back down, and sprinted the last 200 m, telling myself that I would finish three sets even if everyone else left before I was finished. When I crossed the makeshift finish line, someone else asked me how I was doing. I said, “Oh, I’m great. I’m just slow, so don’t mind me.” She smiled and said, “I always like to say that we’re faster than the people that don’t come.” Touche.
I was most struck, though, that she used the word “we.” Perhaps they didn’t see me as beneath them. Maybe I was the only one who saw myself that way.
I’m proud to say that I did finish all three of my sets, chatting with the group of ladies that I was closest to keeping up with at each of the recoveries. I learned their names and got a few tips, and I was really touched when, as they passed me on the last hill, they told me they’d wait for me at the top so I wouldn’t have to run back to the store alone. They were completely friendly, encouraging, and nonjudgmental. They treated me as an equal, and I was and still am very grateful to them.
We jogged back to the store, and then I walked to the train smiling from ear to ear. It looks like this racing team is going to be everything I hoped it could be. I was a bit stiff all day today, and especially after running an 8K after work, I must admit that there are some choice muscle groups that are quite sore. But I finished. I did everything the coach asked me to do, and I met some really nice people to boot. And I’m so proud of myself that I can barely stand it.
I’ll be out of town next Wednesday (in California, woo!), but I’m looking forward to returning to speed training after that. Yes, I was the slowest one there. But I had such a good time that I hardly even care. And after my experience yesterday, I believe I will get faster, as long as I keep working. I owe all that to the group of runners that took the time to notice how hard I was working and encourage me. Thanks to them, I’m a new kind of self-conscious now – conscious of my potential instead of my inexperience.
It’s a good way to be.
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