Boot Camp Kamen Style is officially in full swing, we had our first session on the track yesterday. The session was 2000m of tempo running and explosive medicine ball throws, nothing too taxing.
However today will be quite the opposite, I have an appointment with
lactic acid. If you have read my blog you know this is a necessary evil in my world, but not one I ever get used to or actively volunteer for.
"Follow Fashion Makes a Donkey Lose It's Tail"-Mama
Last Monday, four days before
Stockholm I had 4x 200m runs, and I was alone with no coach. Luckily Shana Cox and Monica Hargrove were also at the track doing a gang load of 150m runs. They are world class 400m runners and looked oh so graceful and pain-free...I watched them longingly as I warmed up for my session.
In the world of speed, I would be a
wombat to their
impala, no doubt.
Anyhoo, I'm not sure if I wanted to impress them or look the part too but whatever it was, it was stupid...and I would pay for this mimicry later.
My first 200m should have been a low 26 seconds, to keep me comfortable but moving. I was being timed by someone else and whenever there is a clock on me, I get a bit possessed. And with coach missing and not their to keep me in check, I was at the mercy of my own devices.
I promise there was a little winged creature sitting on my shoulder with spikes on. And instead of a pitch fork, buddy had a stop watch, talking about: "They have never seen you run, better look right Felicien...lest they talk about us.".
I came thru in what I was told was "25.8"...ok that is a seasonal best and very comfortable.
Sweet.
A few minutes later I did another one in "25.9".
Really?!,
wow. Another sub 26, for me. Maybe I should take on
Allyson Felix this weekend.
Shut it....I was only joking.
But for a lowly hurdler that is some good running, based on my recovery time in between. But I spoke too soon because a few seconds into my rest my backside was locked. I mean pure immobilization. The
gluteal region was burning up, like someone had me squat in a boiling vat of
Tiger Balm for two days straight.
Frick.
The Little Hurdler That Could
I was in trouble. On the last one I made the executive decision to shorten the run to 150m. If my coach was there he would have signed off on this order. I had to preserve my running mechanics and keep some integrity of the run.
I was steady rolling around in the grass, squirming like a moist worm suddenly exposed to a burning sun. Someone said something like. "Let's go Perdita, rolling around like that is gonna make you feel worse".
Huh?!....Owww....it hurts... As I steady continue to stop-drop-and roll.
Isn't that what they taught children to do in grade two when on fire. Well thank you Mrs. Baker, 22 years later, this tool finally comes in handy, because your girl is burning up. The
Pickering Fire Department would be so proud of my technique.
I guess Shana had seen enough of this pathetic display of N.S (No-Shame). She marched over and grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet.
Noo.. noo...Im not ready, I still have 3 seconds of rest left...U cant make me...!
Actually yes she could. Shana took charge of the situation and asked me what I intended to run this weekend. Oh no. Was she was calling me out?!.
Gasp!
This was a call to action, a
'Shall-Aunge' so to speak, I had to respond. So from parched lips I mumbled a scratchy and feeble "twel..ve ..f..ive".
She walked with me to the start line reminding me that "The last one is the only one that matters anyway". Right on sister, twelve five needs me.
...well I really need it.
The Final Frontier
So with burning buns of steel and Shana's pointers in my ears, I took off like a quarter miler incarnate. Arms swinging furiously. Steel eyed. Focused on the finish line. Mouth greedily sucking air. Feet digging into a hot track.
50m...GO P!....80m...MOVE!....110m....DON'T YOU DARE BREAK DOWN TRICK!....125m...EEK I THINK I'M LOCKING UP....141m...OH MY, HOW THINGS HAVE COME TO A SCREETCHING HAULT....150m....I DID IT!!.
Of course I was going nowhere fast that whole time...however it was the effort and heart that counted. I am sure they had to be laughing a bit inside, I knew I would have.
Never before have I felt these two emotions at the same time. So sad and totally triumphant, and I loved every pain filled minute of it. Come to find out my first two splits were not 25.8 and 25.9 but a ballsy 25.1 and 25.4! I am glad they did that to protect me, if I heard the real times I woulda freaked out.
Thanks to my fellow elites!
But the whole point of that true story is whenever I have something challenging on the horizon. A workout, a meeting, a major championship. I reflect on past successes and the times I have come through. I replay what I thought, how I felt and what made the difference.
And I use that to pad my confidence going in to what ever is next. So today's lactic acid is a microcosm of what's to come. If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere! In the corniest phrase I can find: BRING IT ON!
Perdita Felicien-I Eat Lactic Acid For Breafkast
