Mission: Impossible

This weekend I was supposed to do a 5k on Sunday, but the group said they were riding on Sunday and running Saturday. Itching to ride with a group (and Wingman on his new bike) I flipped my workout days. I toyed with a 4 miler in Patchogue or a 5k in Wantagh. Basically the orders came down from "The Boss" that I should do the 4 miler in Patchogue. Gotta do what "The Boss" says because she creates my workout schedules and she can make my life a living hell ;-)  And yes Jen, I did see next week's schedule and that slightly resembles hell.......but I digress.

My schedules are created in Training Peaks and it's setup to email me each morning two days worth of workouts. For example, on Saturday morning I will see Saturday and Sunday's schedule. And what's nicer is I get it on my Blackberry as well. Each morning I wake up and check my email for my instructions. It's kinda like "Mission: Impossible." It usually reads (and interprets) something like:

"Good morning, Wingnut. Today's workout for Saturday, March 27, 2010:

Race: Push Hard! No holding back!!! Gun it and hold on!

You're mission, should you decide to accept it, is to PR this race. 

Should you not attain this PR, 

the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.

This message will self destruct in 5 seconds."

Then oddly enough, I hear this:

I made it down to Patchogue and signed up. I had my Garmin GPS with me, but I could not find my heart rate monitor strap. I figured I would use the GPS just to check my pace every now and then, but otherwise, I would stick to the 'mission'. The race was starting on Main Street just in front of the St. Patrick's Day Parade (I know, I know, I can't figure out why they do a parade 10 days after the fact). As I stood around waiting for the start, I could hear a sound that I thought the Geneva Convention protected me from:


I swear it's like listening to cats mating....and please don't ask me how I know that sound. I was now dying to start the race. I finally see the starter come out to line us up. Next thing I know the horn goes off and I am on my way. All I am consumed with right now is getting away from the bagpipes. I raced down the street and was finally away from that awful noise. I was following my orders to push hard. And push is what I did. In the first mile I was thinking that there was no way I could run 4 miles. I had a bad two weeks and didn't run as much as I would have liked. But now is not the time to worry about this. I have to gun it. So I continue on my way, leary about another run in with the pipes. But alas, that would not happen.

At the first mile marker, I do a quick inventory. I checked my pace and was doing OK. Not sure I can hold it for 4, but I'll do my best to try. I didn't even really think PR at this point. I would worry about this when I get to mile 3. But for now, I move through to mile 2. The legs are still moving and I am starting to feel that disconnect between my legs and the rest of my body. I haven't felt that in a long time. It's a feeling where my legs are going, but I don't really feel it. Almost like it's no effort to run. But my heart is telling me it's quite an effort. I can feel the pounding in my chest and my mind starts to drift a little. I start to wonder what it is looking like on an ECG (yes, I still have school on the brain). At least this occupies me for the next 1/2 mile. Next thing I know I roll into mile 2 and am still feeling good. Check my pace and see I didn't slow down much.

The next mile was the challenge. I tried to focus on the race in front of me, but now I started playing the math game. I look at the time I have run so far and what I have ahead of me. Can I make it in PR time? I start flirting with the idea. If I can keep my pace or if it slows a bit, I can make it.

I am a woman on a mission. I can feel my body rally now to complete the mission. I make it through mile 3 and look at the watch. I think I can make it. I've been gunning it and now I have to hold on.

The last mile hurt a bit. I could feel my legs start to burn and my sedentary week was catching up with me. I check the GPS again and I have .4 miles to go. I check the time and realize that unless I stop and walk the rest of the way, there was nothing stopping me from my PR. Feet don't fail me now!! I can see the finish line clock ahead and begin a new race against the clock. I tried to summon up every fast-twitch fiber in my body, but it was hard to do. But I finished in fine fashion. I ran this race 1:44 faster than the 4 miler I did 2 weeks ago. Not too shabby seeing as how this was a stressful month with exams. I'm excited to see that my running times have been coming down. No time to celebrate, I had to get back to work. I found my way to the car and got out of there. I called Wingman and told him of my race. I told him I opened a can of this:

He currently owns the 4 mile record in the house, but now he hears me coming up behind him. I have it in my sights. I have another 4 mile race I want to do in April. Mark my words, I will work hard the next few weeks and make that race not only a PR, but a house record. Hmm, another Mission: Impossible?