Riding the emotional roller coaster again

I found myself having a Lindsay Bluth Funke moment a few days ago, during a run.

"Have I lost it?" I asked myself during the first of five miserable intervals.

"Did I ever even have it?" I thought as nausea rose after the third.

I'll still agree with the thought that the only run you regret is the one you don't go on, but man, I did not award myself any gold stars after that particular effort.

Well, OK, despite how certain friends feel about participation trophies, I did pat myself — gently — on the back for realizing it wasn't my day and adapting my effort/expectations to conditions. (Hot and humid.)

Some of this floated around my head as I prepared for and embarked on my first long run of training — five miles, the longest I've run since April 28's half marathon.

But as it turns out, all of this RAGBRAI preparation had erased my memories of the emotional cycle most of my runs follow.

Today, the first few steps felt awesome. I loved running. I was thrilled to be running. Did I have to stop at five miles?

After the first mile, the sweat and fatigue began to build up. Running was kind of tough, but why? I'd had a good night's sleep, proper nutrition and none of the trigger foods/drinks.

Midway through, I found my rhythm. Running was awesome again. I passed a few groups of social runners. Thanks for the brief snippet of "Runaround" from your iPod, ladies, but some of us are flying at the target 9:30 pace.

And then came the hills, sometimes metaphorical, other times (like today) literal. Negotiations about when to walk ensued. The mind won today; next time, the body likely will. Hopefully the mind wins more often.

Finally, during the last half mile, the hundredths of a mile took their sweet time registering, but I knew they'd tick up even more slowly if I slowed down. Plus, that average pace — which had bloated to 9:44 in the previous stage — was shrinking.

Biking (well, in flat Des Moines at least) didn't feature so many mood swings. All of that happiness and gourmand behavior must've softened me up. Hence the day of doubt.

But hey, the deeper the slide, the higher the rise, and I haven't found much in athletics yet that can beat the runner's high.

A week on easy street

Back in January, when I registered for a 5K and a half marathon, I snuck one week from the 5K training plan into my half marathon schedule.

So in the midst of training for a half marathon, I've suddenly begun tapering for my upcoming 5K. And talk about a contrast.

Two Mondays ago, I ran 10 miles in the snow at a 9:36 pace; this Monday, I ran four — twice as many as I was "supposed to" — at a 10:34 pace and knew 60-degree days were right around the corner.

Two Wednesdays ago, I did nine 400-meter intervals; yesterday, I did a 30-minute tempo run.

Last Friday, I ran five miles in shorts and a T-shirt; when I run either today or tomorrow, I'll still have the shorts and T-shirt (I hope!), but I'll only need to go two miles. That leaves plenty of time for me to bake a cake. (If you work with me on Saturdays, get excited!)

Last Saturday, I dragged myself out of bed a half-hour early so that I could do a test run. This Saturday, I might venture out to soak up some sun ... or I might hit the snooze button.

No wonder I've felt like I had more time on my hands lately.

It's odd to hear about my running friends' third 10-miler in three weeks on the same day that I slept nine hours. Judging from some deep naps and serious tuning out of the alarm clock, though, the lower-mileage week has been much-needed.

And thinking back over the past month, as the long runs have grown longer, it seems like I've been mixing in a few easier weeks (to accommodate out-of-town trips, visitors and lack of perfectly timed 10K and 15K races to enter).

I'm pretty sure that's a training tip I've read online, though all the sleeping I've been doing could be clouding my brains. Just to be safe, I'll pat myself on the back for doing something right, even if it's on accident.

Getting what I wanted on Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is long past, yet I'm still starry-eyed over how I spent that particular holiday evening.

Given the name and focus of my blog, it should come as no surprise that it has to do with running rather than romance.

I woke up that morning expecting to do my interval run while the sun shone and high temperatures approached 40 degrees — I had the night shift — but at the last minute, a co-worker with an earlier shift asked me to switch.

I found myself looking at 7 p.m. freedom. Everyone asked what I was going to do with that sudden bonus, and I think everyone was disappointed with my answer: run intervals and take a long, hot shower.

Everyone, that is, except for me. And that's what matters.

It was a little chilly and quite a bit dark when I got outside, but I knew the sidewalks were clear, and I trusted my headlamp to illuminate any other dangers for me.

Despite losing my Kleenex sometime during the warmup (sorry, environment), it was a solid workout: consistent times, great speed and strong recovery. When I add more repeats later in the training cycle, I think the fatigue will slow me down just a bit, to the speed I think/hope I can sustain over a 5K race.

The best part of this workout, though, was how fantastic it made everything else after that. I've said it before, but a warm meal and long, hot shower become earth-shatteringly good. And the combination of all that made the couch — and later, my bed — feel like heaven.

My heart was all a-flutter, the light was low, and the sleep was blissful. What more, besides a foot rub, could a runner ask for on Valentine's Day?

Mostly wordless Wednesday

Photographing the back of your ankle/calf — NOT A CANKLE THOUGH — requires some contortion skills, which I don't have.

How best to cap off a tough workout the day after you quit hibernating? Let the zipper on your tights gnaw away at your calf.

Apparently I lost my ability to properly zip the bottom of my running tights during my two-week layoff. Oops. And ouch.

But better this than blisters and calluses.

The RW Holiday Running Streak is on

The idea of doing the Runner's World Holiday Running Streak intrigued me, a week or so before it would start, but I had one reservation: the holiday part.

Thanksgiving — the kickoff day — posed the biggest challenge, at first. My parents were coming to visit me on Thanksgiving Eve and leaving before I headed to work on the actual holiday at 3 p.m.

Our plans were pretty loosey-goosey, but I figured that getting in a single mile (the bare minimum to keep the streak alive) was completely doable; if it didn't happen before work, it most likely would happen after my 11 p.m. punch-out.

Though that didn't turn out to be necessary on Thanksgiving — we said our farewells at noon, and I headed out in sunshine and 60-degree temps — the mental preparation paid dividends two days later.

A friend I'd made in Rockford was visiting family in Ames over the weekend, so we hung out Saturday before I headed to work at 1 p.m. There wasn't time before work, but there was after — at 11 p.m.

I'd gone running after work plenty of times during the summer and early fall, but never this late, never when it was that cold and never for that short of a distance. The first two factors dragged on my enthusiasm, but the third one pumped it up. Only a mile. Less than 10 minutes. I'd be safe and snug on my couch before I even knew it.

That same guarantee had pushed me out the door Friday, when temperatures were in the 30s or maybe even upper 20s, and when the wind was whipping around the prairie. I ended up knocking out a solid set of intervals rather than the slow mile I'd promised to do at minimum.

So the first three days were the toughest, but the challenge is working exactly as it was intended to. Mac 'n' cheese, eggs Benedict, sweet potato pie, egg nog, adult beverages — I'm downing them all in moderation AND without guilt.

Getting back into intervals

When I was training for my second half marathon, I did 400-meter repeats, because that's what Hal Higdon told me to do.

I didn't have a smartphone then, so I picked a spot based on easy measurements rather than on optimal terrain. Nor did I have a clear idea of interval pace versus recovery pace. Going slightly downhill at top speed could be fun, but that wore off quickly after just a few recovery jogs up a long, slow incline.

When I was training for my third half marathon, I reluctantly returned to repeats — but I sure wasn't diligent about them.

However, I had a smartphone by then, which meant I could just start wherever a certain traffic-free rural road became mostly flat and run until MapMyRun told me to stop. The plan wasn't perfect: There was still a slight drop and an oh-so-helpful tailwind as I sprinted; there was still a slight incline and frustrating headwind as I recovered.

Plus, I still went too fast, but at least this time — having read that if you have to stop and gasp for breath, you're going too hard — I was aware of the problem. (But not quite able to stop it.)

Now, I'm not training for anything in particular, which I realized yesterday morning is not optimal. But with evidence of potential improvement in my 5K PR, I decided that it was time to raise the bar a little bit and sought help from Twitter.

Brad of On the bus ... Running answered: 400-meter repeats. More importantly, he recommended using the McMillan Running Calculator to determine what my times should be. I'm sure I've read/heard about the calculator before but just forgotten. Kind of like how I knew intervals were helpful for improving, but "forgot."

Anyway, yesterday's intervals went as follows: 2:02, 2:00, 2:00, 1:58, 2:00, 2:02.

I gave myself major pats on the back for the following: consistency, rather than flying and crashing; proper route choice, with no hills either way and all gusts coming during recovery jogs; mostly continued movement, even after the sprints.

As for the McMillan suggestions? I came up a little fast if I'm treating this as a stamina workout (2:06 to 2:10), a little slow if I'm treating it as a speed workout (1:49.5 to 1:55.5 for speedsters, 1:50.9 to 1:57.8 for endurance monsters).

So I'm a little off, but I'm very much encouraged. At no point did I consider keeling over, which was a frequent problem in past interval sessions; it's just that next time, I might consider being a little bit less comfortable.

Is it improved fitness, improved weather or improved feel for pacing that got me through? I'd like to think it's a mix of all three (because I can't deny that this fall has been better for running than last spring).