Ah the joys of running in South Phoenix! On Friday I planned to run my favorite trail but due to time constraints I changed my plan to a tempo run on one of the canals in South Phoenix. Now don't go romanticizing the "canals" of south Phoenix. This is what I ran on:
It's no Venice, but it is certainly nicer than running on sidewalks.
Now there are varying descriptions of what exactly a "tempo" run is, but it is basically a run with a warm up and a cool down, wherein the middle portion is run at what is referred to alternately as "race pace", "threshold pace", or a "comfortably hard" pace. Whatever words you use to describe it, the basic goal is to run a pace that is uncomfortable but not unbearable for about as long as you can. Do this enough, and that pace is supposed to become comfortable. My "tempo" pace used to be between 8 to 9 minute miles, depending on my stage of training and the distance I was training for. But since Ironman and marathon training apparently makes me a slower runner (?!) my current tempo pace is apparently around 9:30 per mile (this is 30 seconds slower than my most recent half marathon pace!!) I only divulge this sad bit of information so that a few months from now, when my tempo pace is back down to the 8 min. region everyone will be super proud of me.
The actual pace of my tempo run on Friday, however, was determined not by my "threshold", but instead by a combination of the following:
Breaking up a fight.
Slowing down to talk to the police about said fight.
Speeding up for barking dogs behind questionably effective fences.
I saw the fight from about 100 yards away, across the street. It looked like a couple of junior high kids, with a small group of spectators. One kid was very clearly headed for victory, and if I were the kid on the other end of his fist (or at that moment, in the headlock) I would sure want someone to step in. So I yelled, "HEY!" from across the street as I ran toward them. By the time I got to them they had stopped actually fighting, and were doing that kind of sizing up, regrouping slow walk in circles thing. I asked the kids who were watching, "Is this for real?" I mean, you know how boys are. One of the girls on the sidelines said they were just "messing around", no doubt to get rid of the annoying interloper in running clothes. I didn't really know what to do so I just kept running and turning back to check every few seconds. They had not started fighting again, and when I checked back after a couple of minutes they were gone.
I turned around shortly thereafter to run back to my car, and a few minutes later I heard wheels rolling up the dirt path behind me. I turned around to see a police car approaching. I thought: Well that's ironic. Where were you guys about 10 minutes ago? But what do you know; they pulled up next to me and said, "Did you happen to see anyone fighting in this area?" I couldn't believe that was actually why they were there. I guess some concerned citizen had been more proactive than I. So I said, "Why yes, Officer, I did in fact witness some wayward youths engaging in hi jinx and tomfoolery just around the corner." Or something like that.
They went off to find the rascals, and I continued on. It was about this time that I heard some dogs barking from the yards to my left. This was nothing unusual. But then I noticed that almost without exception, every fence on the block had holes dug beneath it, or didn't even reach the ground to begin with. None of those fences were going to keep in a dog! And for the rest of that section, my tempo pace did get back down to 8 minutes a mile!
So that was Friday's "tempo" run. I have been reading some other triathlon blogs lately, and I find that their posts are mostly about actual training. So why are mine always about things like crashes, pedal issues, and breaking up schoolyard fights? It seems every workout is an adventure!
It's no Venice, but it is certainly nicer than running on sidewalks.
Now there are varying descriptions of what exactly a "tempo" run is, but it is basically a run with a warm up and a cool down, wherein the middle portion is run at what is referred to alternately as "race pace", "threshold pace", or a "comfortably hard" pace. Whatever words you use to describe it, the basic goal is to run a pace that is uncomfortable but not unbearable for about as long as you can. Do this enough, and that pace is supposed to become comfortable. My "tempo" pace used to be between 8 to 9 minute miles, depending on my stage of training and the distance I was training for. But since Ironman and marathon training apparently makes me a slower runner (?!) my current tempo pace is apparently around 9:30 per mile (this is 30 seconds slower than my most recent half marathon pace!!) I only divulge this sad bit of information so that a few months from now, when my tempo pace is back down to the 8 min. region everyone will be super proud of me.
The actual pace of my tempo run on Friday, however, was determined not by my "threshold", but instead by a combination of the following:
Breaking up a fight.
Slowing down to talk to the police about said fight.
Speeding up for barking dogs behind questionably effective fences.
I saw the fight from about 100 yards away, across the street. It looked like a couple of junior high kids, with a small group of spectators. One kid was very clearly headed for victory, and if I were the kid on the other end of his fist (or at that moment, in the headlock) I would sure want someone to step in. So I yelled, "HEY!" from across the street as I ran toward them. By the time I got to them they had stopped actually fighting, and were doing that kind of sizing up, regrouping slow walk in circles thing. I asked the kids who were watching, "Is this for real?" I mean, you know how boys are. One of the girls on the sidelines said they were just "messing around", no doubt to get rid of the annoying interloper in running clothes. I didn't really know what to do so I just kept running and turning back to check every few seconds. They had not started fighting again, and when I checked back after a couple of minutes they were gone.
I turned around shortly thereafter to run back to my car, and a few minutes later I heard wheels rolling up the dirt path behind me. I turned around to see a police car approaching. I thought: Well that's ironic. Where were you guys about 10 minutes ago? But what do you know; they pulled up next to me and said, "Did you happen to see anyone fighting in this area?" I couldn't believe that was actually why they were there. I guess some concerned citizen had been more proactive than I. So I said, "Why yes, Officer, I did in fact witness some wayward youths engaging in hi jinx and tomfoolery just around the corner." Or something like that.
They went off to find the rascals, and I continued on. It was about this time that I heard some dogs barking from the yards to my left. This was nothing unusual. But then I noticed that almost without exception, every fence on the block had holes dug beneath it, or didn't even reach the ground to begin with. None of those fences were going to keep in a dog! And for the rest of that section, my tempo pace did get back down to 8 minutes a mile!
So that was Friday's "tempo" run. I have been reading some other triathlon blogs lately, and I find that their posts are mostly about actual training. So why are mine always about things like crashes, pedal issues, and breaking up schoolyard fights? It seems every workout is an adventure!
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