I sprinted 200 meters this morning. Four times.
I doubt that I've sprinted that far since high school track and field. Maybe not even then--I'm not made for speed. Our track and field coach was quite aware of that fact, and I spent all of my time working on events that didn't demonstrate my less-than-blazing non-speed. I do recall being part of a 4 x 100 meter relay once. Just once.
I looked at today's workout online before the sun came up. It called for a run with some longer intervals at a fast-but-not-sprint pace, and then 200 meter "sprints". I had to read that a few times to get my head around it. Aside from chuckling to myself at what I might look like "sprinting", and being pretty happy that there was no one else at the high school track when I arrived, I wondered what it would feel like.
The first one didn't feel too bad. Correction: the first 100 meters didn't feel too bad. By the end I was struggling to keep my legs moving. I walked for a minute and then started sprint #2. By the end of that one, I was dizzy, nauseated and gulping air as if I'd been underwater for the past week. Honestly, I don't remember much about #3 and #4.
I got in the car and drove home. I pulled into the garage and started to climb out, then stopped as my legs complained sharply and bitterly. I had a brief discussion with my legs and convinced them to cooperate. Once inside, Julie asked how the run was. "Um," I said, "I sprinted."
"Oh," she said. And repeated: "How was it?"
"Not used to sprinting," I smiled, weakly. "They hurt."
Because Julie is a perceptive woman, she didn't immediately continue the line of questioning. I walked slowly into the kitchen and got something to drink. Out loud: "Why am I sprinting?"
From the other room, with a joke in her voice: "To make you faster."
Hardy-har-har.
But true, of course. Triathlon has ranged from hobby to obsession over the past four years, and I've done lots of uncomfortable things that I hope will make me faster. Why? I'm not sure. I like the training almost as much as I like the races, and I especially appreciate mornings like this--doing something that I don't do, that I might not be very good at, but that stretches me in some way. Something that makes me faster.
Triathlon is a long project, with goals that are set months and years in advance. The only way to get from here to there is a long string of daily challenges, fitting them in around the rest of life's daily challenges. Why do I want to be faster? I really don't know. But it's good finding out.
