cadence

There’s no crying in running

A League of Their Own may have been talking baseball, but for me this past week, that movie spoke to my running 5,000 times over. Thank you Jimmy Dugan 😀 “There’s no crying in [running]!” But man, oh man, did I want to. Before even starting my run on Friday, I had pre-runner’s trots 🙁 And because of the trots, I ended up getting a much later start to the run putting me out there during the top scorcher hours. It felt as though I were running through a thick wall of heat! And for about 30 minutes following my first walk break, I felt as though I was shrivelling up like a slug out there. I couldn’t push my pace, I couldn’t catch my breath, the fuel I had ingested sat like a bloody lump in my belly, and my body was heating up, dripping with salty sweat. And …

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Speed DEMONS!!!

Finally, thanks to Coach NZ, I’ve got a running definition I can relate to. Cadence: Run like a kid.   Seeing as how that’s half of my running mantra – “Run like a kid. Finish with a smile.” – you’d think I’d actually like running speed intervals. But no, that definition is nowhere near as fun as it sounds. Speed sucks – large! Back when I started Coach NZ’s program, she warned me I’d have to get over my hate for speed. If I wanted to be faster, she said, I had to embrace runs that involved high cadence and speed repeats. I couldn’t just go through the motions, I had to put solid effort in. Up until today, however, I think I was somewhat lackadaisical when it came to building up my speed capacity. Sure I ran those runs, sure I tried, but if I’m gonna be honest, I could have …

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Stumped by the lingo and gizmos

When I dreamed of coming back to running I thought it would be like riding a bike. Actually,  no. I thought it would be like running, something we’ve all done since we first learned how to put one foot in front of the other. And it was…for the most part. I got out there and it was as though I had never left, the wind in my face, the burn in my thighs, the spreading and releasing of my toes with each foot strike I made; a feeling more familiar than the back of my hand. But then, three weeks ago, it all changed. Suddenly I was being stumped, stumped by all the running lingo and gizmos – terminology and technology I thought would forever be stamped not only in my feet but also in my brain. Cadence? Tempo? LSD? (Okay, that one I remembered, but only because it reminds …

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