This post was written for and first appeared on One Foot In Reality.
Well, yesterday's speed work session turned into a bit of a shit show. That is about all I can say and the title of this post pretty much sums it up.
Yes, I am stooopid and sometimes my own worst enemy.
Yesterday morning's easy run was a nice 4.0 miler, but I noticed that my left Achilles felt a bit tight, not anything new, ever since I partially tore it a few years ago, there are days it tells me all about the woes of the world and it was doing just that.
Usually, when it starts to talk to me, I ease up for a couple of days and it stops sulking and barking at me.
However, like the typical runner I am, after all I am preparing to do a trail race this weekend and that mile race on the 30th, I "needed" to get a quality speed work session in on my Tuesday speed work day.
So damn the torpedoes!
Yes, I went ahead and did the speed work session in spite of that "little voice" in the back of my head telling me, I really, really needed to skip running fast yesterday.
Harold - guess what -- the "little voice" was right.
It was a pretty nice day in the 60's but the wind was pretty brutal on Outer Civic Center Drive, so I waited until I got on Leighton to start the speed work. The Achilles was a little sulky, but not too bad, so I figured it would be fine.
I planned on going short and faster than usual for 6-10 intervals and finishing up with 4 x max effort hill repeats for 8-10 seconds with about 4.0 miles total for the run.
That was the plan.
The first interval felt good, so did the second one (both got under that magical 6:00 minute pace barrier), but when I slowed down I noticed the left Achilles beginning to bark a little more, the third interval was okay (around 6:50) and then I decided to do a little longer interval for the 4th one (sub 7:00). Towards the end of that one, the Achilles really started to bother, not bark, so I shut down the faster work and figured that was enough speed work for the day.
It wasn't feeling too bad, so instead of just going back to the barn, I decided that I could do an easy lap to get the 4.0 miles in and see if the Achilles would loosen up enough to do the hill sprints.
Once I got over to Leighton Road (shorter to just keep going), my Achilles really began to talk to me in a particularly nasty way. I finished, but really wished that I hadn't done that last lap!
So much for being a smart runner. Kind of an oxymoron when applied to Harold the Destroyer.
Which means that I probably have at least a week away from running and will miss the trail race this weekend - smart move right!!!!
Oh well, it is probably just a bad flare-up of my Achilles tendon somethingness, there was no bruising or dark spots, so I didn't re-tear or really screw things up, but this is what usually happens when I try to combine speed and not quite up to that speed conditioning.
Maybe someday I will learn.
It is my first real self-induced ouchie in a while, so I will live with it and who know, maybe I will heal quickly enough to run, not race the 5K Trail race this weekend at UMA.
If not I will chalk it up to another learning experience.
But for now I am limping around and whining about how stoopid I am.