Morning Workout

CJ Indoor Track.

I wanted to write today, but I was struggling with a topic. When that happens, I turn to one constant in my life, running. The annual Binghamton Bridge Run Half Marathon (13.1 miles) race is on May 5th, 2024. I am less ready this year than in any of the previous twelve I've run. I have struggled with my training for several reasons, some perennial and some new. This year, I have struggled with a knee problem that seems to be resolving. Yes, just 30 days before the race.

I have resigned myself to the inevitable. This will likely be the slowest half-marathon I've run*. I'm okay with that. I still have two weeks to see what I can do to build endurance.  There is little I can realistically do to affect my speed at this point. If I work diligently and carefully, I may make some progress. If I press too hard, I'll re-injure myself. In any training plan, the first goal is to get to the start line healthy. The second goal is to cross the finish line. I haven't established a time goal yet, but I'll be satisfied to finish around 2:10. I once ran this race in1:40:48 (averaging 8:27/mile). That is far out of reach this year. Maybe next year. Even a 2:10 will depend on many variables I cannot control. The weather is chief among them. It is not uncommon to have a rainy Bridge Run, and the temperature can be very unpredictable.

Setting all of that aside is challenging but essential. I need to focus on the workout time I have before me. One workout I have tried to reintroduce to my routine now that my knee is more or less cooperating is the 6x800 at race pace (which will be in the neighborhood of 9:10/mile). This should be easy, and it may be. I've opted to run them inside on the indoor track at the Court Jester Athletic Club (the gym I belong to) because the weather outside is rainy, and it is dark at 5:30am. This morning, I decided that the challenges of the indoor track are more acceptable than those associated with being outside or on a treadmill.

The fundamental challenge with the indoor track at CJ is that it is 16 laps to a mile. There is a banked, 180-degree turn at each end of the track. So you run, hard-turn, run, hard-turn... ~8 times to do an ~800-meter (roughly a half-mile) distance. That is a lot of circles, and by the time you get a good stride along the straight part, you are almost into the turn, even at my expected, relatively slow, 9:10 pace. 

In the center of the track is an area for free-weight lifting. On the outside, there are two workout rooms and a drinking fountain. The combination results in foot traffic crossing the track at both ends on the corners.  This is another challenge with the indoor track. It is essential to pay attention to avoid collisions, which sometimes messes with your pace (both the avoidance and occurrence). Everyone tries to be aware of the potential for collision, so it usually isn't a problem, but it still requires mindful observation.

The track has two lanes. The inside lane is intended for walking, and the outside lane is intended for running. Presumably, the outside lane was used to calculate 16 laps/mile. The lanes are narrow and only two people can be accommodated abreast on the track. This can occasionally be problematic when you run and come up behind two people walking side by side or a slower runner passing a walker. Generally, people are considerate and try to stay out of each other's way, but because of the tight quarters, there is still a constant state of awareness required here that is not required on an outdoor track. Zoning out to music isn't a wise move here.

I stand looking at the track. I warmed up with a mile on the treadmill, getting my blood flowing, and the morning coffee's caffeine is sharpening my focus. My water bottle rests on the windowsill at the track's edge. A little old-time rock and roll is playing in my right earbud (I prefer to use just one when I'm indoors). My Garmin watch is set, ready to log my statistics and alert me if my pace moves off plan. All that's left is to press start. The hardest part of any intense workout is starting. I hesitate a moment longer and do a quick mental check-in with my knee; it seems sturdy enough. I plan to work hard, but the transition from the relative comfort of this moment to the stress of the workout is the part I dread the most. Once the body is committed, the mental focus takes over, and the doubt dissipates. I just need to get busy.

 I take a deep breath. A thousand rationalizations for aborting this workout flood through my mind. I'm accustomed to ignoring those inner demons, so I turn to look at the clock. The old adage "If you don't get started, you'll never finish" comes to mind, so I jog toward my starting point and press the start button on my Garmin watch as I cross it.

I start on the back straight part of the track. This first length of the track seems short. Gramin is already telling me that my pace is faster than planned. I feel energized; I feel fast. I know this won't last. I heed the electronic recommendation and ease up. There's no sense burning up in the first 1/16th of a mile. Starting too fast is a rookie error, one that I regularly make.

When I start, I'm the only one on the track. As I round the first of many 180 turns this morning, I cut the corner a little, dropping into the waking lane for a few steps. This eases the stress on my hips and then I can accelerate back to pace along the next straight section. This doesn't work well when others are on the track, so staying alert is key.

I accelerate again, noting that Gramin continues complaining that my pace is faster than the target. I make minor adjustments to my stride and pace as I look for the rhythm that keeps me at the target pace.  By the 6th lap, my adrenaline is under control, and I have settled into a cruising pace that is nearly on the mark, though there is a variance at the turns.  By lap 8, I'm out of breath, but feeling pretty good. I'm into it now. My knee feels sturdy. I walk for the first half of the 3-minute rest period, then move to an easy jog as I prepare for the start of the next interval.

The next interval goes well, and I dial in the pace more quickly, but also struggle to maintain it in the last couple of laps. This is where the work begins. There are now a few more people around: one or two on the track in the walking lane and a few crossing the track to move between rooms. I have to stay aware of where everyone is, and I hope they will do the same. It's time to get the work done.

*Author's note: I am finishing this essay well after finishing the race I was training for. My half-marathon time was 2:16:47. It is not my slowest, but it is close. I am publishing this just a few weeks before my 2025 race. That will be another story.