I think it's about time for a heart rate update. Seeing as how I track it pretty religiously these days, I might as well report back in case anyone out there is thinking about training using your heart rate.
Since running is the sport that I do the most (3 times per week rather than just 1 or 2) it's the activity that I am getting the most practice with in terms of figuring out heart rate.
What I've been trying to do is to keep my long runs under 160 beats per minute while keeping my shorter runs under 165. Last week I started doing speed work again and I'm planning to get back into hill workouts this week. For those I just go full speed ahead and then check what my heart rate is at the end. For the speed work I peaked at 174 beats per minute and for hills I'm guessing I'll max out at 180 since that was my max last fall.
Here is an example of how things have been going:
Saturday I ran 14k. I tried very hard to keep my heart rate between 155-160 and it stayed there easily for most of it but kept creeping over 160 during the last few kilometres. That being said, I ran 14k without too much effort and I did not stop once. Not even for 15 seconds at a red light. I just started running at the end of my driveway, ran 7k, turned around and ran back to my driveway. Best part was that I didn't want to stop. It felt easy enough that I knew I could do it so I did.
The tradeoff is that I'm slower than I used to be. Not by a lot but still slower.
That being said, I'll take 15 seconds per kilometre slower if the tradeoff is that I can run for 90 minutes with no great difficulty and feel completely fine for the rest of the day.
I'll be ramping up the mileage over the next few weeks as I train for my spring half marathon. I'm running 16k next week, 18k not long after and then I'm in the 20s for a few weeks in a row. If I can keep my heart rate down and glide through those distances too, I'll be completely sold on this new way of running.
On to other activities!
I have used the erg (aka rowing machine) four times now at my new fitness centre. I've tracked my heart rate each time as well as my distance. During my first two 30-minute workouts it was a struggle to get 6000m done. On the third one I did 6400m and just this past Sunday I was able to do 6650m. So I'm obviously getting the hang of this thing.
My heart rate numbers are pretty similar to my running ones. Once I get going I'm hovering in the high 150s, up to 160, for the rest of the workout. Strangely, that heart rate makes for a pretty easy run but it makes for a pretty intense erg session. At the end of 30 minutes I'm dripping wet, panting and exhausted.
For cycling, I can't seem to get my heart rate up to 150, never mind above it. Even when the dude on the video is yelling at us to climb faster or spin faster or push harder, I tend to hover around 145bpm. I feel like I'm working pretty darn hard but it's not reflected in my heart rate.
Tracking my heart rate during a swim is not an option at this point because I don't have the waterproof watch to do it.
Lessons learned so far?
1. Running using heart rate works very well for me. It might not work for the speed demons out there who like to give it their all during every run but it works for me as I try to find a way to run long distance races feeling strong from start to finish.
2. A given heart rate (say 155bpm) is easy to reach during some activities, hard in others and seeming impossible in others still. Yet the effort I'm putting out is different for each activity.
- 155bpm = pretty easy running
- 155bpm = pretty tough erg'ing
- 155bpm = I've never reached that on the bike so I'm guessing it might kill me if I do
Heart rate training may not be for everyone but it's definitely a tool I'm keeping in my fitness toolbox.
Showing posts with label intervals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intervals. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Friday, March 20, 2015
No More Excuses
The piles of snow are (almost) melted and the streets are clear and dry. The temperatures spend more time hovering above the freezing mark than they spend below it and I've dropped two layers of running clothes already.
So basically I have no more excuses.
It's time to get back into hill and speed training again.
I tend to avoid it during the cold winter months because a) the freezing air wreaks havoc on my lungs when I'm gasping for breath and b) the roads around our home always have some degree of snow or ice cover and it feels a little too dangerous to be tearing around a corner at breakneck speed in the dark over unpredictably slippery roads.
So I don't do it and, to be honest, it's a nice break.
Like most cyclical activities though, after a bit of time away from them, I'm ready to get back at it.
Yesterday morning I got up early, pulled on my running clothes and filled a water bottle. I strolled to the end of my driveway, put the water bottle on the top of my car, and headed out for an easy 1.5k warmup around the neighbourhood. At exactly 1.5k I was back at my car. I hit 'lap' on my watch, stretched my calves and sipped water for two minutes and then hit lap again as I headed off for an 800m sprint.
I love the fact that one time around my block is exactly 800m. I start at my car and end at my car and don't have to do much thinking other than to remember to turn the corners.
I usually do 6 or 8 times 800m when I do this workout but I figured I'd start with 5 since it has been months since I've run this hard.
It went something like this.
Sprint 800m. Hit lap on the watch. Check out my time and my heart rate. Try to get my breathing back under control while I stretch my calves. Do it again once my two minute rest was up. After the 5th one I turned off my watch and headed inside for breakfast, feeling energized and strong.
My 800m times were:
4:29
4:33
4:36
4:37
4:39
My heart rate at the end of each interval was 174 beats per minute. Since my max heart rate (based on my hill running experiment last fall) is 180bpm, I was running at just under 97% of my max before I dropped back down to 115 or so during the rest break.
Each 800m felt pretty tough and I don't think I could have gone much faster but they didn't kill me. I spent the day feeling energized rather than exhausted and nothing felt tight or sore afterwards.
Next week - hill training!
So basically I have no more excuses.
It's time to get back into hill and speed training again.
I tend to avoid it during the cold winter months because a) the freezing air wreaks havoc on my lungs when I'm gasping for breath and b) the roads around our home always have some degree of snow or ice cover and it feels a little too dangerous to be tearing around a corner at breakneck speed in the dark over unpredictably slippery roads.
So I don't do it and, to be honest, it's a nice break.
Like most cyclical activities though, after a bit of time away from them, I'm ready to get back at it.
Yesterday morning I got up early, pulled on my running clothes and filled a water bottle. I strolled to the end of my driveway, put the water bottle on the top of my car, and headed out for an easy 1.5k warmup around the neighbourhood. At exactly 1.5k I was back at my car. I hit 'lap' on my watch, stretched my calves and sipped water for two minutes and then hit lap again as I headed off for an 800m sprint.
I love the fact that one time around my block is exactly 800m. I start at my car and end at my car and don't have to do much thinking other than to remember to turn the corners.
I usually do 6 or 8 times 800m when I do this workout but I figured I'd start with 5 since it has been months since I've run this hard.
It went something like this.
Sprint 800m. Hit lap on the watch. Check out my time and my heart rate. Try to get my breathing back under control while I stretch my calves. Do it again once my two minute rest was up. After the 5th one I turned off my watch and headed inside for breakfast, feeling energized and strong.
My 800m times were:
4:29
4:33
4:36
4:37
4:39
My heart rate at the end of each interval was 174 beats per minute. Since my max heart rate (based on my hill running experiment last fall) is 180bpm, I was running at just under 97% of my max before I dropped back down to 115 or so during the rest break.
Each 800m felt pretty tough and I don't think I could have gone much faster but they didn't kill me. I spent the day feeling energized rather than exhausted and nothing felt tight or sore afterwards.
Next week - hill training!
Friday, June 27, 2014
6x800m and an Irish setter
In the fall of 2011 I developed a stress fracture. I was a few weeks away from my first marathon and the increased running had finally caught up to me, causing me to take 8 weeks off, miss the marathon entirely, discover swimming and eventually become a triathlete.
During that marathon training, I was doing regular interval training in an effort to increase my speed a bit.
Once I returned to running in the early cold days of 2012, I avoided doing anything other than regular running for fear of reinjuring myself. After a while that just became the norm and I no longer did interval training at all. I just ran. Short distances. Long ones. Always at the same pace.
Yesterday, a full 2 1/2 years after my post-stress fracture return to running, I did interval training. Why? Because I feel like it's time to kick it up a notch and I am sick of running the same pace.
Guess what happened?
I remembered!
I remembered how much I used to love intervals. The easy warm up. The tough push to keep running right to the end of the interval even though your lungs are heaving and your legs are screaming. The wonderful, blessed two minutes of recovery and then the challenge of doing it all over again and trying to beat the time before.
I remembered how much fun that used to be. How I never thought I would get through however many we had to do but I always did and always felt great afterwards. The kind of great when your body feels tight and strong and yet your bones feel soft with fatigue.
As I prepared for this return to intervals I was happy to discover that once around my block is exactly 800m. Since 800m is my favourite interval distance I decided to start with my favourite workout: 6x800m.
I circled the block twice to warm up, stopped for a minute to stretch my calves and sip some Nuun, and then I headed off for my first one.
I started off at a gallop and had no idea how long it would take me to get all the way around. I also didn't know if the pace I started off at was sustainable for the entire distance. I was expecting to work hard. I was expecting to be tired. It was not expecting to have to stop 30 seconds into that first interval. But I did. Why? Because a rather large Irish setter I had never seen before was running straight for me. I stopped and calmly extended my hand for him (her?) to sniff me hoping he (she?) was as friendly as they looked. I was sniffed and then, feeling safe enough, I took off again for the last 750m. Followed by an eager red dog galloping along beside me.
I stopped back at the start and was pleased to discover that I could make it all the way around going as fast as I could without collapsing in a heap.
The dog got bored about 30 seconds into my rest and decided to explore my backyard. One minute in, it came back and then took off down the street.
I did my second loop feeling strong and much more confident. I made it all the way around without mishap. Another rest. Another few gulps of Nuun. Blood sugar holding steady at 5.9.
My third time around I found a man whistling and hollering in the middle of the street. I sighed and stopped again. "Are you looking for a red dog?" I asked. "Yes" he replied looking frazzled in his pyjamas. If he had hair I would guess it would have been sticking straight up. "He went that way" I pointed and took off again. "Thanks!" he yelled and hopped into his car.
Once I had finished 3 out of 6 intervals, I was already counting down instead of counting up. I knew I should stop at 6 even though I was having so much fun. I did 4 and 5 feeling pretty good I was tiring. Number 6 was pretty tough. I willed my legs to keep going and willed my lungs to keep pumping. They did but I knew it was time to quit. Intervals are about quality as much as quantity.
I had no idea what to expect for time since it had been over 2 years since I had last done this. Here is how long each 800m sprint took to run:
1. 4:14
2. 4:18
3. 4:15
4. 4:20
5. 4:14
6. 4:20
Good? Bad? I have no idea anymore but at least I have a baseline to work with for next time.
Even more exciting. I did a total of 6.68km in 37 minutes. I realize I had breaks in there that allowed me to run that pace but it's still pretty cool to be able to run that fast. Even for a little while.
Next Thursday should have been hill training (another favourite) but I will be in Orlando for the Friends for Life conference. Not sure how many hills there are in central Florida but I'm guessing the hills will have to wait until I get back.
I am, however, not dismissing the idea of finding an 800m stretch of road, parking lot or whatever to squeeze in an early morning interval session. I'm definitely bringing my running clothes but I think I'll toss in some NUUN and a water bottle too.
Any readers out there going to FFL? Let me know if you want me to meet up for some 800m repeats on Thursday before breakfast.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Site Patterns
I'm beginning to notice a pattern.
Every Tuesday. Or Thursday. Never both but always one. My infusion site leaks insulin.
Only when it's hot out.
And only when I've gone for a run before work.
This was not a problem last fall. Nor was it an issue over the winter. And, trust me, I do sweat when I run in February. A lot.
It is a problem in the summer. Ever since I've switched from long pants and jackets to shorts and a t-shirt, my site leaks.
Here's how things go.
I go for a run. I come back dripping wet. I check my blood sugar and I bolus for breakfast. I keep one finger lightly on the infusion site and, once the insulin is bolused, I do the finger sniff test. If it's wet and smells of insulin - we have a problem. If it isn't, we might still have a problem but I don't know for sure.
No insulin smell means the breakfast bolus most likely worked but it increases the odds that the lunch bolus won't.
Yesterday, Tuesday, breakfast went well. My site passed the sniff test and my blood sugars did what they normally do after a run and breakfast. Lunch time came around and I bolused. The insulin was still going in when I felt wetness on my site. Damn!!
How much got in? Will I have to go home to change it? Does my entire office have that dreaded insulin smell now? I hope not.
I waited a while to eat to see if my sugar would drop. It did. I ate and ended up around 11 two hours later. Not bad but it never came back down again. I hovered at 11 until 4pm. Not high enough to warrant going home but high enough to be mildly annoyed. I did a test bolus around 3pm and could smell insulin. So after work, before heading to my parents' for dinner, I rushed home, changed the site and then hopped on the highway. Problem solved.
This only happens on Tuesday or Thursday. Not Tuesday and Thursday. I think it's because one of those days is usually a pretty new site and one of them is usually a site that is almost due for a change. I also think that wearing a loose t-shirt instead of a tight base layer top is a problem. The loose shirt, combined with sweat and humidity, rubs back and forth against the site while I run, causing problems. And a wee bit of chaffing.
The problem is that the site looks fine even when it's not. It's not like the tiny tube is sticking out or the adhesive came off. It's still securely attached and everything seems good. It's only when I bolus a large amount (5-6 units) that it seems to pool on my skin rather than go in. I have thought about doing 5 one unit boluses over a few minutes. It might solve the immediate problem but it does sort of take away from the 'convenience factor' of a pump. I've also thought about tossing my needle in my purse after runs and bolusing with that instead. Because I think the basal insulin is getting in just fine. It's the bolus that's a problem.
I'm going to try wearing my tight tank top on Thursday to see if that reduces the movement and helps the site survive the run.
Oh, and I'm putting this out there so that I actually do it. On Thursday I will also be doing 800m interval repeats in my neighbourhood. For the first time in about three years. I'm excited and more than a little nauseated at the thought.
I'll keep you posted on how both experiments go.
Wish me luck!
Every Tuesday. Or Thursday. Never both but always one. My infusion site leaks insulin.
Only when it's hot out.
And only when I've gone for a run before work.
This was not a problem last fall. Nor was it an issue over the winter. And, trust me, I do sweat when I run in February. A lot.
It is a problem in the summer. Ever since I've switched from long pants and jackets to shorts and a t-shirt, my site leaks.
Here's how things go.
I go for a run. I come back dripping wet. I check my blood sugar and I bolus for breakfast. I keep one finger lightly on the infusion site and, once the insulin is bolused, I do the finger sniff test. If it's wet and smells of insulin - we have a problem. If it isn't, we might still have a problem but I don't know for sure.
No insulin smell means the breakfast bolus most likely worked but it increases the odds that the lunch bolus won't.
Yesterday, Tuesday, breakfast went well. My site passed the sniff test and my blood sugars did what they normally do after a run and breakfast. Lunch time came around and I bolused. The insulin was still going in when I felt wetness on my site. Damn!!
How much got in? Will I have to go home to change it? Does my entire office have that dreaded insulin smell now? I hope not.
I waited a while to eat to see if my sugar would drop. It did. I ate and ended up around 11 two hours later. Not bad but it never came back down again. I hovered at 11 until 4pm. Not high enough to warrant going home but high enough to be mildly annoyed. I did a test bolus around 3pm and could smell insulin. So after work, before heading to my parents' for dinner, I rushed home, changed the site and then hopped on the highway. Problem solved.
This only happens on Tuesday or Thursday. Not Tuesday and Thursday. I think it's because one of those days is usually a pretty new site and one of them is usually a site that is almost due for a change. I also think that wearing a loose t-shirt instead of a tight base layer top is a problem. The loose shirt, combined with sweat and humidity, rubs back and forth against the site while I run, causing problems. And a wee bit of chaffing.
The problem is that the site looks fine even when it's not. It's not like the tiny tube is sticking out or the adhesive came off. It's still securely attached and everything seems good. It's only when I bolus a large amount (5-6 units) that it seems to pool on my skin rather than go in. I have thought about doing 5 one unit boluses over a few minutes. It might solve the immediate problem but it does sort of take away from the 'convenience factor' of a pump. I've also thought about tossing my needle in my purse after runs and bolusing with that instead. Because I think the basal insulin is getting in just fine. It's the bolus that's a problem.
I'm going to try wearing my tight tank top on Thursday to see if that reduces the movement and helps the site survive the run.
Oh, and I'm putting this out there so that I actually do it. On Thursday I will also be doing 800m interval repeats in my neighbourhood. For the first time in about three years. I'm excited and more than a little nauseated at the thought.
I'll keep you posted on how both experiments go.
Wish me luck!
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Shaving Seconds
I am a Monday, Wednesday, Friday morning swimmer. I love that routine - it works for me, I get three great workouts in and it still leaves time for other activities.
Christine used to bug me a lot during the summer about coming to the pool more often. More mornings a week or even in the evenings. I came out one extra time during the entire twelve weeks. It was good but I really don't want to spend more than three days a week swimming. So I didn't do it again.
On Monday morning, Christine looked me in the eye and said, "you HAVE to come to the pool on Saturday". "This Saturday?" I asked, already thinking about the Medtronic race. "No, the one after - October 13th."
Ok, why?
We're doing time-trials.
Ummmm what?
Apparently, on October 13th, we will be swimming various distances (25m, 50m, 100m etc) as fast as we can and they will be timing us. Don't ask me who they are, I have absolutely no idea. This time trial will give us some sort of baseline on which to work and increase out speed.
I did a quick calendar review in my head. It's the week after the Twin Cities 10-miler and it's the week before the Niagara Falls half marathon. So I should be running 10k. I can squeeze a 10k in at some point during the weekend so...ok. I'll come.
Great!
In preparation for our time trials - we swam 50m sprints. Thirty of them. After our 900m warm-up.
One easy and four fast. Each one on a minute and fifteen seconds. Repeat six times.
"I want you to keep up your pace. Swim through the burn. Don't slow down! Your last one needs to be as fast as your first".
My first 25 were all between 47 and 48 seconds. I am a consistent little metronome and proud that, the last time we did this, my times were all about 51 seconds.
"Ok, we have four fast ones left. Céline, I want you to do them in 46 seconds!".
Thankfully I was panting too much to say what I was thinking out loud.
"Go!" she yelled.
I chased Sasha who was in the lane beside me. I chased him hard. I hit the wall and Christine yelled "forty-six seconds exactly!". Woot!
"Do it again!".
I did.
"This time, try forty-five."
I did it in 45.7 seconds.
"Last one everyone! Céline, I want a forty-four."
Damnit! I was already giving it everything I had and had already done 29 of these damn things.
"Sasha, I want you under 37 seconds."
What??
The guy was swimming under forty seconds? Bloody hell. She yelled go and I chased him hard. Normally he pulls ahead by about 12m but I kept right up to him for the first 25 metres. I lost him when he did his impeccable flip turn and I did my clumsy wall turn push routine but I could still see his bubbles and I chased those instead.
"Forty-four!!!!!" Christine yelled.
I have no idea what time Sasha did his in because he was seconds in front of me but I went from 51 seconds in July down to 47 seconds in October and then, despite having already swum 2400m, I dug deep and pulled out a forty-four second swim.
Usually, after a hard workout like that, I need to get out of the pool, shower, change, drive home and have breakfast before I can even begin to realize what a great workout it was. On Monday, as I gasped my way through the last 50m, arms aching and legs flailing, I was smiling.
I. Love. Swimming.
Oh, and next week we're apparently doing 16x100m sprints.
Christine used to bug me a lot during the summer about coming to the pool more often. More mornings a week or even in the evenings. I came out one extra time during the entire twelve weeks. It was good but I really don't want to spend more than three days a week swimming. So I didn't do it again.
On Monday morning, Christine looked me in the eye and said, "you HAVE to come to the pool on Saturday". "This Saturday?" I asked, already thinking about the Medtronic race. "No, the one after - October 13th."
Ok, why?
We're doing time-trials.
Ummmm what?
Apparently, on October 13th, we will be swimming various distances (25m, 50m, 100m etc) as fast as we can and they will be timing us. Don't ask me who they are, I have absolutely no idea. This time trial will give us some sort of baseline on which to work and increase out speed.
I did a quick calendar review in my head. It's the week after the Twin Cities 10-miler and it's the week before the Niagara Falls half marathon. So I should be running 10k. I can squeeze a 10k in at some point during the weekend so...ok. I'll come.
Great!
In preparation for our time trials - we swam 50m sprints. Thirty of them. After our 900m warm-up.
One easy and four fast. Each one on a minute and fifteen seconds. Repeat six times.
"I want you to keep up your pace. Swim through the burn. Don't slow down! Your last one needs to be as fast as your first".
My first 25 were all between 47 and 48 seconds. I am a consistent little metronome and proud that, the last time we did this, my times were all about 51 seconds.
"Ok, we have four fast ones left. Céline, I want you to do them in 46 seconds!".
Thankfully I was panting too much to say what I was thinking out loud.
"Go!" she yelled.
I chased Sasha who was in the lane beside me. I chased him hard. I hit the wall and Christine yelled "forty-six seconds exactly!". Woot!
"Do it again!".
I did.
"This time, try forty-five."
I did it in 45.7 seconds.
"Last one everyone! Céline, I want a forty-four."
Damnit! I was already giving it everything I had and had already done 29 of these damn things.
"Sasha, I want you under 37 seconds."
What??
The guy was swimming under forty seconds? Bloody hell. She yelled go and I chased him hard. Normally he pulls ahead by about 12m but I kept right up to him for the first 25 metres. I lost him when he did his impeccable flip turn and I did my clumsy wall turn push routine but I could still see his bubbles and I chased those instead.
"Forty-four!!!!!" Christine yelled.
I have no idea what time Sasha did his in because he was seconds in front of me but I went from 51 seconds in July down to 47 seconds in October and then, despite having already swum 2400m, I dug deep and pulled out a forty-four second swim.
Usually, after a hard workout like that, I need to get out of the pool, shower, change, drive home and have breakfast before I can even begin to realize what a great workout it was. On Monday, as I gasped my way through the last 50m, arms aching and legs flailing, I was smiling.
I. Love. Swimming.
Oh, and next week we're apparently doing 16x100m sprints.
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Human Metronome
Last Friday morning, the Masters swimming class was packed.
Relatively speaking.
So far, the most I've seen is two swimmers other than me. This time there were six swimmers plus me.
After our individual warm-ups, Christine broke us up into three groups and explained that morning's plan.
Interval training.
We were going to swim 20x50m. The first five of these would each be done in two minutes. In other words, the clock starts as soon as we take off and, no matter how long it takes us to swim the 50m, we don't start the next one until two minutes after the clock started.
The faster you are, the more time you get to rest.
The next five would be done in 1:55s, the next five in 1:50s and the final five in 1:45s. So less time between swims.
"Go!" she yelled. I took off like a shot (I like to think anyway) and made it back first in 51 seconds.
"Awesome! Now go a little faster next time" she said.
The second one took 51 seconds - despite my best effort to speed up.
"You have to kick harder. I want to see white water churning behind you".
Ok. I kicked hard. I pulled hard. I was flying!
"Fifty-one seconds" announced Christine when I finished that one.
Seriously??
"I want a faster turnover rate on your arms"
Ok. I gave her a faster turnover rate AND remembered to kickkickkickkick hard.
Guess how long that one took?
51 seconds of course.
I did all twenty of them. Everyone else in my group started getting tired and slowing down. They added a few seconds to each 50m until some were taking a minute and a half for each one. I was still doing 51 seconds every time.
"I will break you of this. We're going to make you FAST!" promised Christine after my last one which was, you guessed it, 51 seconds.
I took great comfort in the fact that I had the energy and strength to finish the workout as strong as I started it. If fact I was exactly as strong at the finish as I was at the start.
I am a little curious as to how she's going to break my one-pace-wonder swim technique.
Guess we'll find out.
Relatively speaking.
So far, the most I've seen is two swimmers other than me. This time there were six swimmers plus me.
After our individual warm-ups, Christine broke us up into three groups and explained that morning's plan.
Interval training.
We were going to swim 20x50m. The first five of these would each be done in two minutes. In other words, the clock starts as soon as we take off and, no matter how long it takes us to swim the 50m, we don't start the next one until two minutes after the clock started.
The faster you are, the more time you get to rest.
The next five would be done in 1:55s, the next five in 1:50s and the final five in 1:45s. So less time between swims.
"Go!" she yelled. I took off like a shot (I like to think anyway) and made it back first in 51 seconds.
"Awesome! Now go a little faster next time" she said.
The second one took 51 seconds - despite my best effort to speed up.
"You have to kick harder. I want to see white water churning behind you".
Ok. I kicked hard. I pulled hard. I was flying!
"Fifty-one seconds" announced Christine when I finished that one.
Seriously??
"I want a faster turnover rate on your arms"
Ok. I gave her a faster turnover rate AND remembered to kickkickkickkick hard.
Guess how long that one took?
51 seconds of course.
I did all twenty of them. Everyone else in my group started getting tired and slowing down. They added a few seconds to each 50m until some were taking a minute and a half for each one. I was still doing 51 seconds every time.
"I will break you of this. We're going to make you FAST!" promised Christine after my last one which was, you guessed it, 51 seconds.
I took great comfort in the fact that I had the energy and strength to finish the workout as strong as I started it. If fact I was exactly as strong at the finish as I was at the start.
I am a little curious as to how she's going to break my one-pace-wonder swim technique.
Guess we'll find out.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Balancing Blood and Body
It's Thursday - that means it's interval time again. Ten times 800m. Same as last week except this time I didn't dream about doing them before I actually did them.
I woke up to a blood sugar of 4.6. That's a wonderful number to wake up to but, when I have a hard run that I didn't wake up at 3:30am to adjust my basal for, it feels a little on the low side. Normally, for early morning runs, I have a gel and head out the door. My instincts told me to have a gel, a date and a big handful of raisins. So I did.
Doug asked how many intervals I had to do. I said ten. He said 'do six'. I said that I would aim for ten but listen to my body. He headed off to run Hydro Hill and I headed down the road to my interval spot.
I did six intervals and felt quite energetic. My calves and shins were feeling tight. I wondered whether I should push them or attend to their whining. I gave them a mini massage between each rep and, after a few rounds, they loosened up nicely.
After the sixth interval, I was feeling so good that I decided to do all ten.
Then I did the seventh one. Part way through, I felt my speed drop and my body seemed to shift gears. Nothing hurt, nothing specific was wrong, I just felt my energy level drop a notch. After number seven, I drank an extra gulp of water and took a longer rest before starting the next one. On number eight, I again felt that body shift and energy drop. Nothing significant but enough to decide that eight was the magic number.
I had two etabs, drank a bit more water and headed home. I ran slow and easy which was exactly the speed my body was able to sustain for the two kilometre return trip. As soon as I got home, I checked my sugar. It was 4.6.
Exactly the same as it was before I started my run. That part is impressive. But it also explains my gear shift problem. My sugar rarely goes below 5.0 during a run - I do what I can to ensure that it doesn't. Anything under four is a pretty serious problem and I like having a bit of a buffer. So I try to keep my sugar over five. On top of the dangers of going too low, I've noticed that as soon as I get near 5.0, I feel my energy start to drop. That's probably what happened back at interval 7.
I feel my best on runs when my blood sugar hovers between 6 and 10. That's probably where I was for the first six intervals which is why I felt so good and ran consistent times for each.
I'm glad that I didn't listen when my shins and calves started complaining. I took care of them but carried on with the run.
I'm also glad that I didn't push myself to run all ten intervals. If I had, I would most likely have had a low on the run home which is never a safe place to be.
It's all about knowing when to listen and when to ignore. When to hold 'em and when to fold'em.
When to walk away...and when to run.
I never count my money, when I'm sitting at the table...but here are my interval times, for anyone who is interested:
4:42
4:40
4:39
4:38
4:35
4:32
4:40
4:44
Funny, you can see my body warm up during the first few, settle into a groove and then, lose momentum when my sugar took a dive.
Another day in the life of a runner with diabetes. Which, as my friend John well knows, is NOT the same thing as a diabetic runner.
I woke up to a blood sugar of 4.6. That's a wonderful number to wake up to but, when I have a hard run that I didn't wake up at 3:30am to adjust my basal for, it feels a little on the low side. Normally, for early morning runs, I have a gel and head out the door. My instincts told me to have a gel, a date and a big handful of raisins. So I did.
Doug asked how many intervals I had to do. I said ten. He said 'do six'. I said that I would aim for ten but listen to my body. He headed off to run Hydro Hill and I headed down the road to my interval spot.
I did six intervals and felt quite energetic. My calves and shins were feeling tight. I wondered whether I should push them or attend to their whining. I gave them a mini massage between each rep and, after a few rounds, they loosened up nicely.
After the sixth interval, I was feeling so good that I decided to do all ten.
Then I did the seventh one. Part way through, I felt my speed drop and my body seemed to shift gears. Nothing hurt, nothing specific was wrong, I just felt my energy level drop a notch. After number seven, I drank an extra gulp of water and took a longer rest before starting the next one. On number eight, I again felt that body shift and energy drop. Nothing significant but enough to decide that eight was the magic number.
I had two etabs, drank a bit more water and headed home. I ran slow and easy which was exactly the speed my body was able to sustain for the two kilometre return trip. As soon as I got home, I checked my sugar. It was 4.6.
Exactly the same as it was before I started my run. That part is impressive. But it also explains my gear shift problem. My sugar rarely goes below 5.0 during a run - I do what I can to ensure that it doesn't. Anything under four is a pretty serious problem and I like having a bit of a buffer. So I try to keep my sugar over five. On top of the dangers of going too low, I've noticed that as soon as I get near 5.0, I feel my energy start to drop. That's probably what happened back at interval 7.
I feel my best on runs when my blood sugar hovers between 6 and 10. That's probably where I was for the first six intervals which is why I felt so good and ran consistent times for each.
I'm glad that I didn't listen when my shins and calves started complaining. I took care of them but carried on with the run.
I'm also glad that I didn't push myself to run all ten intervals. If I had, I would most likely have had a low on the run home which is never a safe place to be.
It's all about knowing when to listen and when to ignore. When to hold 'em and when to fold'em.
When to walk away...and when to run.
I never count my money, when I'm sitting at the table...but here are my interval times, for anyone who is interested:
4:42
4:40
4:39
4:38
4:35
4:32
4:40
4:44
Funny, you can see my body warm up during the first few, settle into a groove and then, lose momentum when my sugar took a dive.
Another day in the life of a runner with diabetes. Which, as my friend John well knows, is NOT the same thing as a diabetic runner.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Jacob Two-Two and the 800m intervals
Ever have one of those dreams that feel so real you don't realize you're asleep?
I don't have those very often. My dreams tend to involve strange creatures, super powers, and such bizarre plot lines that I never really think they're real. I just go along for the ride.
This morning's dream was different. It felt so real that I'm still a little shaken to find out that it wasn't.
Here's how it went.
I woke up at 5am, pulled on my running clothes and headed downstairs. I felt full of energy (that should have been my first clue). I checked my sugar: 5.0 (perfect!). I had a gel and two dates and headed out the door. Today's run was interval training and I had emailed Benny yesterday to ask what we had to do. Ten times 800m with a 2k warm up and a 2k cooldown. So I trotted along for 2k to get to the subdivision where we run our 800m intervals. I felt good. The sun was coming up. I did all ten reps - they were hard but I felt strong through all ten of them. I grabbed my water belt and headed home again. As I was running over the bridge, just a few hundred metres from home, I was nuzzled awake by Doug. I glanced at the clock. It said 4:58am.
What?!? Seriously?
I have to do it all over again.
I crawled out of bed for real this time. I pulled on my clothes and stumbled downstairs. I was groggy and tired after three days of getting up at 5am. I checked my sugar: 10.8 (sigh). I had a gel and took 0.4units of insulin to give me a little something to fight the high.
I ran an easy 2k, took off my water belt and prepared myself mentally to run 800m. Fast. Ten times.
The first time I brought Scully out to do these, I told her that it was four minutes of hell. Truth be told, it's actually about 4 minutes and forty five seconds of hell. The first trick is to push yourself at a pace that you can sustain for the entire 800m. The second trick is to push it at a pace that you can sustain for all ten reps.
I ran the first one in 4:42. It felt pretty good. The next four were 4:40, 4:39, 4:38 and 4:35.
I'm nothing if not consistent.
Doug, Klari and Barb showed up at 6:30am. They meet every week as part of their training for the Simcoe Shores Ultra Distance Relay (more on that craziness in an upcoming blog). I chatted for a few seconds and then continued for rep number 6. They started after I did but are much faster so they caught me in the last few hundred metres. Klari pulled up beside me and something possessed me to sprint like a maniac for the last 200m. Pride? Stupidity? Whatever it was, I did that interval in 4:24.
The next two were ok (4:35 and 4:40) but I was tiring quickly. The final two were 4:53 and 4:55. I was done.
I waved goodbye to the others, pulled on my now empty water belt and headed home. It was slow - I walked the last few hundred metres over the bridge and down my street.
If you count the ten reps I did before I even woke up this morning, I did 20x800m and ran just over 24k.
If you insist on only counting those that are officially registered on my Garmin, I did 10x800 and ran just over 12k.
Either way, I've had quite the workout and am now enjoying the endorphin high that comes after a great run. And I'm crossing my fingers that tonight's dreams involve flying whales and purple pandas.
I don't have those very often. My dreams tend to involve strange creatures, super powers, and such bizarre plot lines that I never really think they're real. I just go along for the ride.
This morning's dream was different. It felt so real that I'm still a little shaken to find out that it wasn't.
Here's how it went.
I woke up at 5am, pulled on my running clothes and headed downstairs. I felt full of energy (that should have been my first clue). I checked my sugar: 5.0 (perfect!). I had a gel and two dates and headed out the door. Today's run was interval training and I had emailed Benny yesterday to ask what we had to do. Ten times 800m with a 2k warm up and a 2k cooldown. So I trotted along for 2k to get to the subdivision where we run our 800m intervals. I felt good. The sun was coming up. I did all ten reps - they were hard but I felt strong through all ten of them. I grabbed my water belt and headed home again. As I was running over the bridge, just a few hundred metres from home, I was nuzzled awake by Doug. I glanced at the clock. It said 4:58am.
What?!? Seriously?
I have to do it all over again.
I crawled out of bed for real this time. I pulled on my clothes and stumbled downstairs. I was groggy and tired after three days of getting up at 5am. I checked my sugar: 10.8 (sigh). I had a gel and took 0.4units of insulin to give me a little something to fight the high.
I ran an easy 2k, took off my water belt and prepared myself mentally to run 800m. Fast. Ten times.
The first time I brought Scully out to do these, I told her that it was four minutes of hell. Truth be told, it's actually about 4 minutes and forty five seconds of hell. The first trick is to push yourself at a pace that you can sustain for the entire 800m. The second trick is to push it at a pace that you can sustain for all ten reps.
I ran the first one in 4:42. It felt pretty good. The next four were 4:40, 4:39, 4:38 and 4:35.
I'm nothing if not consistent.
Doug, Klari and Barb showed up at 6:30am. They meet every week as part of their training for the Simcoe Shores Ultra Distance Relay (more on that craziness in an upcoming blog). I chatted for a few seconds and then continued for rep number 6. They started after I did but are much faster so they caught me in the last few hundred metres. Klari pulled up beside me and something possessed me to sprint like a maniac for the last 200m. Pride? Stupidity? Whatever it was, I did that interval in 4:24.
The next two were ok (4:35 and 4:40) but I was tiring quickly. The final two were 4:53 and 4:55. I was done.
I waved goodbye to the others, pulled on my now empty water belt and headed home. It was slow - I walked the last few hundred metres over the bridge and down my street.
If you count the ten reps I did before I even woke up this morning, I did 20x800m and ran just over 24k.
If you insist on only counting those that are officially registered on my Garmin, I did 10x800 and ran just over 12k.
Either way, I've had quite the workout and am now enjoying the endorphin high that comes after a great run. And I'm crossing my fingers that tonight's dreams involve flying whales and purple pandas.
Friday, June 3, 2011
From Up Down to Round and Round
Poor Scully. I honestly don't know why she likes us. Every time we see her we drag her on some crazy running adventure that we promise will be fun.
Last week - hill training. Last night - intervals.
At least we pick nice areas to run in. A lovely warm up run down tree-lined streets full of big ol' houses and beautifully manicured lawns. Dappled sunlight filtering down through the trees. Peaceful and quiet it was.
Thirteen minutes later, we arrived at another lovely little subdivision which backs on to a ravine. More trees, more beautiful homes, more lovely sunlight. So deceptively calm and quiet.
This time however, instead of a leisurely run and enough energy left over to chat, we ran our asses off. Four minutes of hell is how I like to describe it.
Basically, the goal is to run around the 800m (half mile) subdivision as fast as you can without collapsing in a heap. Two minutes off to catch your breath and get rid of the urge to vomit and then do it again. Six times. Seven if you're Doug.
Scully is a brave little lass and tough as nails. She was hurting from her Tuesday night stair workout, tired and feeling under the weather. Yet she managed to never be more than a few steps behind me the entire time. We ran fairly consistent 4:12-4:20 intervals which means our pace hovered around 5:12-5:18 minutes per kilometre. Crazy!
One interval actually broke the 4 minute barrier (3:56!) which I have never ever managed to do before - despite repeated attempts last year and even having someone pace me. Apprently, if you throw two diabetics together, all sorts of crazy stuff happens.
The 6:15 pace we ran on the way home seemed almost too easy after the intervals. We could talk (sort of) and breathe normally again. I was hurting, Scully was hurting, but we did it!
Now I have to think up some other kind of hell to put her through the next time we run together. Hills on Erion Road? Sawmill? Brock?
Last week - hill training. Last night - intervals.
At least we pick nice areas to run in. A lovely warm up run down tree-lined streets full of big ol' houses and beautifully manicured lawns. Dappled sunlight filtering down through the trees. Peaceful and quiet it was.
Thirteen minutes later, we arrived at another lovely little subdivision which backs on to a ravine. More trees, more beautiful homes, more lovely sunlight. So deceptively calm and quiet.
This time however, instead of a leisurely run and enough energy left over to chat, we ran our asses off. Four minutes of hell is how I like to describe it.
Basically, the goal is to run around the 800m (half mile) subdivision as fast as you can without collapsing in a heap. Two minutes off to catch your breath and get rid of the urge to vomit and then do it again. Six times. Seven if you're Doug.
Scully is a brave little lass and tough as nails. She was hurting from her Tuesday night stair workout, tired and feeling under the weather. Yet she managed to never be more than a few steps behind me the entire time. We ran fairly consistent 4:12-4:20 intervals which means our pace hovered around 5:12-5:18 minutes per kilometre. Crazy!
One interval actually broke the 4 minute barrier (3:56!) which I have never ever managed to do before - despite repeated attempts last year and even having someone pace me. Apprently, if you throw two diabetics together, all sorts of crazy stuff happens.
The 6:15 pace we ran on the way home seemed almost too easy after the intervals. We could talk (sort of) and breathe normally again. I was hurting, Scully was hurting, but we did it!
Now I have to think up some other kind of hell to put her through the next time we run together. Hills on Erion Road? Sawmill? Brock?
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