>> Thursday, June 18, 2009
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Yesterday AM, I headed to the pool for some intervals. My next tri is over 4 weeks away, and it’s just a 400 meter swim. So I figured I’d do short intervals: 50 yards. I’d never done intervals that short; I usually do 16-20 x 100 or 4 x 500. Yesterday, I thought I’d try around 15 x 50 (with 20 seconds rest) to work on some speed.
I ended up doing 17 (I think I should have done a few more) with an average of 0:41.15 / 50 yards:
41, 40, 40, 42, 43, 42, 43, 43, 42, 42, 42, 42, 41, 41, 40, 41, 41
I was circle-swimming for the first few intervals with 2 other people. Before I started, I chatted with one of the ladies: “Good morning. How are you?” I told her I’d be doing 1 lap intervals so I’d be stopping every lap, but I’d be out of everyone’s way at the shallow end for those 20 seconds between intervals. (If I’m circle-swimming, I want to make sure we all know what each other’s doing so there are no surprises when it comes to turning around at either end.) I was TOTALLY being nice and conversational, and her only response was a VERY SNOOTY “Well, YOU just make sure to stay out of OUR way!” What? Really? That seemed uncalled for. Maybe she misunderstood me. I dunno.
Anyway, I circle-swam just fine, and made EXTRA sure to swing wide around Miss Snooty Pants. On my 2nd interval, I swam wide around her, and ended up scraping my nose right along the floating lane dividers. Not my hand. Not my shoulder. But my nose. The nose on my face. More proof that I can NOT swim in a straight line in a lake OR in a pool.
Three hours later, after I had a meeting at one of the schools where I teach and I had been home grading projects for an hour, I happened to glance in the mirror. I had a nice scrape on my nose that NEARLY matched the purple on my sprained hand:
I’m a wreck!
(75 seconds rest in between.)
#1: 1:10. “On the nose. But I can NOT do that 8 more times...”
#2: 1:07. “Whoa. Ease up there
#3: 1:09. “Better. Good”
#4: 1:10. “Getting hard. Can I go home yet?”
#5: 1:11. “Hard. My legs are beat up. Am I tasting blood?”
#6: 1:12. “I can NOT do this 2 more times. Once more is it.”
#7: 1:12. “Seemingly ‘all out.’ Rough. Slower than it should have been.”
That was it. I couldn’t get myself to do one more. I felt like my legs and my core were both going to blow-out. That was the first time that I’d done 400s in 14 months (since Grandma’s Marathon training 2008, just before I got injured). I think the next time I try 400s, I’ll shoot for doing 9 at about this pace. We’ll see. Regardless, it was a good, speedy day.
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