I’ve decided that intervals are the bane of my training. I hate them. They’re like an abusive relationship. You do the first interval and it feels great, you feel fast and you know that you’re making yourself a better runner. You love intervals, you doodle ‘intervals’ as your last name on a scratch pad and dot the i with a heart. You’d do anything to get in Intervals’ pants. But then pretty soon Intervals gets angry with you and yells at you for something insignificant. This should be a warning flag but Intervals is always so apologetic and sweet during that recovery lap. You can’t help yourself, you find yourself begging for more. By the time you get around to your final few laps you’re gasping for breath as Intervals chokes all the air out of you and punches you repeatedly in the legs. It’s over! You’re not going to take this anymore, you’re a self-respecting runner and you don’t need this. When you were dating Long Slow Distance he never treated you this way.
You finish your final lap and you don’t want to be a better runner anymore, you just want to call the cops and have a restraining order issued against Intervals, but you can’t. You can’t because you’ll be right back there at the track again next week thinking ‘weeee look how fast I am’ during that first interval. You’re like an idiot bounding around the track and you don’t even see the oxygen debt coming, but every week it comes and is quickly followed by the physical abuse. Every week you swear off Intervals. You curse Intervals under your breath and sometimes if you’re feeling bold you curse Intervals out loud, hoping to hurt Intervals’ feelings. “I hate you Intervals, and Long Slow Distance is way more endowed than you’ll ever be!” (You should probably spend some time working on your insults.)
You walk away from the track, shunning Intervals but then you can’t keep yourself from glancing over your shoulder and mouthing “call me” with your hand imitating a phone. ‘Oh yeah,’ intervals is arrogantly thinking ‘you’ll be back for more. You know you want me,’ and Intervals is right. I hate it when Intervals is right.
Hey, I bet you can’t guess what kind of workout I did last night.
5 x 800s (7:35 average pace)
Blech. I hate you Intervals!