I decided early yesterday that a day off after a long run wasn't a bad idea.
Well. That's not entirely accurate. I decided that, on my only day off between a nine-day mini-marathon of work and a five-day work week, my time would be best spent on the couch with a bag of popcorn and the last season of "Castle". (And it was.)
But the later it got, the more I felt like my day was incomplete. So at 8:30pm, I sighed at myself, put on my shoes, and went to the gym.
After such a wonderful week, I was curious. Very curious.
I turned up the speed on the treadmill and launched into another tempo run. I knew it would suck. I knew it might hurt. I decided to embrace it.
I laid out one mile in 10:25, breaking my PR from last Sunday by five full seconds.
A walking interval to catch my breath, then started up some speed intervals at 12:30, just for fun. And really, contrasted with a tempo run, speed intervals are fun. Run hard for a couple minutes, or a short distance, then rest. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel.
My time for two was 22:13.
My record-keeping on my two-miler has been a little dodgy, but I'm pretty sure that's a PR by more than forty seconds.
I'm sure I'll plateau again soon, maybe even right now. It might be another month or two before I get another solid PR. And that's okay.
For now, I'm happy with these shiny gold stars on my calendar.
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