For a month now, a quiet inner guidance has been urging me to do speedwork. But I’ve resisted. I’ve been reluctant to cut my steadily increasing mileage. I’m running alternate weeks of 60 and 45 miles, and I’m not eager to turn my back on the hard work that brought me this far.
On the other hand, I do enjoy fast running. Twenty-two years ago, at age 31, I ran an 18-minute 5K, on chaotic training, and it like to killed me. What could I accomplish at 53, on training that was careful and consistent? I’d never know unless I trained for speed.
I wondered what kind of speedwork I should do. None of the articles in my stack of running magazines inspired me. I decided to go to the high school track and get started. I would do a session of one-mile repeats and see how it went. The decision seemed to mark a fresh beginning. “I’m doing my part,” I thought. As I drove to Grass Valley, I asked inwardly for guidance to do the right thing.
Arriving at the track, I started with three warmup miles. After I’d run a half-mile, a runner pulled alongside and introduced himself. He was Kit Flynn, one of the best runners in the 40-50 age group in northern California.
I had been dreading the boredom of circling the track by myself, and I welcomed the chance to meet Kit and talk. As he began his workout, it was wonderful to watch him fly around the track. Weeks earlier, he’d run 10 miles in 55 minutes at the USATF regional championship, placing fifth in his age group.
I was having trouble running hard. It was my first speed session in years, and my form was tangle-footed and choppy. My breath heaved raggedly, and my legs seemed to skitter out of control. I walked for a quarter-mile between repeats. The second hard mile felt a little easier, and the third mile felt pretty good. I had read that the top racers breathe to a rhythm of two steps to one breath, and I practiced this and found that it settled my stride. My times reflected the improvement: 7:16, 7:15, 7:06, 7:05.
I noticed that Kit’s stride was no longer than mine, but that his turnover was much faster. As he passed, I tried to emulate his cadence but found it difficult, certainly not sustainable. Watching Kit while I searched for my own rhythm, I began to feel more efficient – I was running faster, but it was easier, and I felt increasingly powerful and light on my feet. The breathing rhythm seemed tremendously important.
We finished our workouts at the same time and walked two laps together. I asked Kit about developing leg speed. He smiled and said, “Repeat miles. And you’ve got to watch your form all the time.” He said it was good to do some speedwork year round, so as not to lose speed.
I asked what he thought about while he was running 10 miles at 5:30 pace. He said there was a hard first mile, then he would settle in with a pack and cruise. He said he thought about how great it felt to be zooming along at such a fast pace and not feel strained by it, and that he was careful to watch his form and stay in his rhythm.
I said, “To run 10 miles in under an hour – what a dream!” He was encouraging. He said to just keep doing mile repeats regularly, and that consistency was the most important part of training.
I felt I’d been blessed to arrive in time to meet this friendly, expert runner. But then, it seems I generally am blessed when I overcome my inner resistance and do as the inner guidance suggests.
