Sunday, January 25, 2015

More Beach Intervals: Stealth and Slant Six on the Sand

Why am I the Grumpy Runner? Because at 57, I can no longer run like the wind at will. Why am I the luckiest man alive? Because at 57, I can still almost run like the wind any old time (being 57 is much better that not being 57, that is to say, no longer above the ground.) But I digress--let's talk about running at an angle in soft sand and messing up your ankles.

I find myself again at my favorite place for intervals/speed training, the beach town of San Agustinillo, Oaxaca. With it's gorgeous stretch of flat packed sand facing the Pacific, it's the perfect locale to buzz out barefoot intervals. Busting down the beach at a brisk clip just after dawn is my idea of a real good time. We pulled in yesterday after the six-hour winding mountain road drive at dusk. I trotted half a mile down the beach and back to shake off the effects of the curvy roads by sheer cliffs, happily contemplating the next morning's workout.

But there's a problem. Gotta hit the beach at 7 a.m., unless you are a glutton for heat running. This morning I knock down a tasty cup of decaf and head to the beach only to find the tide is in. This means slanted running. The beach dumps right to the surf at a pitched angle and the sand is soft. No fun. If I run fast there, I mess up my ankles and arches big time.

Strapping on my shoes, I hit the road for a few out-and-back miles up the coastal highway through the next town of Mazunte (think dread-locked Eurohippies) and beyond. Looking for a bit of a workout, I pick up the pace and hit a negative split on the return.

I'm resigned to running some mid-day intervals in the heat once the tide is out and the beach is flat and fast, but by mid-morning it's looking pretty good, the tide is almost out, and I stride up and down for a couple 600 meter repeats. Enough for now, insists my stomach, which I recently loaded with pancakes.

The day turns out hot, but not crazy hot. The sea is refreshing and I go on to do a few more repeats, at mid-day, 3 @ 150 medium fast and 2 @ 600 medium. Good enough. I'm here for a week. I often overdo it on the first day and my legs are sore as heck all week. So this year, I'll try to mete out just punishment enough each day so I can keep rolling.

Stealth & Speed

On our second full day in San Agustinillo, the tide is in come morning and I don't want to run on the soft, slanted beach. So I forget about it for a couple hours and have fun with the kids during a morning dip in the Pacific. By 9:30 or so, the tide has edged out sufficiently to open up a piece of beach I can run on, but we are about to sit down at Mexico Lindo, a great palapa restaurant, for breakfast on the beach.

Lucky for me, we discover that we forgot our snorkle gear, so I head back to the cabana and somehow manage to fit in a warmup run and a 600 meter trot at a brisk pace before returning for breakfast.

Over the course of the day, amongst family activities, I sneak in another snappy 600,  then later 2 @ 300 and 4 @ 200, all pretty quick. I'm not thinking about it as any sort of complete workout, but I realize by the end of the day that my legs are a bit sore so I kinda got it right. I'm also pleased that I stuck to my "no sprinting" rule, I don't want to mess myself up hitting top gear without a proper warm up (or this early in the week.)

If This is Tuesday...

OK I'm running a middle distance workout today, 10:30 a.m. already plenty hot on the beach, but the tide is headed out and there is a bit of breeze. I buzz out 4 @ 650 meters at what feels like a mile race pace. Remember that feeling you'd get in a high school mile? "I'm only a lap and a half in and I'm this tired?!" That's what I'm looking for, and I found it on the second repeat. Sure, I'm racing mostly 10K these days and thinking of tackling a half marathon, but I'm a miler at heart. I keep the rest between repeats at a bit over 2 minutes, and that's what makes it hurt.

Wednesday, I'm not running beach intervals today. Three days in a row is plenty for now! See you on the sand tomorrow.

OK, Thursday.

I did not get on the beach until after 3:00 p.m. today. It's hot and I'm more inclined to a siesta in the hammock that intervals on the beach, but I'm a trooper so here we go. Did I mention I'm on vacation here in San Agustinillo? There are amazing fresh fish fillets grilled in garlic, sublime fish tacos, boutique Italian spots run by actual Italians. Good food all around, and too much of it.

Eating too much is no excuse, so I soldier onto the beach and knock out a respectable 4 @ 650 with maybe 2.5 minutes between repeats. Not quite as fast as Tuesday, but darn close. I finish off the workout with 3 @ 150 - 180, working up to 80 - 85% speed. Still not sprinting, but not too far away either. It's exhilarating to work up to that relaxed yet intense full on middle-distance race cadence, as life-affirming an experience as any!

An hour later I try a couple 80 meter strides a bit slower to see what my legs think about today's workout. They think: Enough for now, dude!


Fried Egg

It's Friday and I'm a bit the fried egg. I've been sticking workouts and (elements of workouts) between family activities as the beach is still not good for fast running at 7:00 a.m. Running in the hottest part of the day is a bit of a challenge, even on the crest of the ocean with it's cooling effect. So today I grind out my 4 @ 650 meters with about 2:30 between in pretty good order at 3:00 p.m. It's work and my legs are a bit sore.

No further complaints! I've done five interval workouts since Sunday, courting the edge of oxygen debt a goodly number of times. Legs are pleasantly sore without being wrecked. Last year here, by the end of the week my legs were pretty ruined. I did a bigger volume of repeats then, but why overtax the system? I have three years of increasing my overall distance/volume in my legs, so a week of medium-hard effort intervals is appropriate.

I finish off today's workout with another fast burst, 100 meters at 85 - 90% effort. It's wonderful to open up my heart, mind and body to running like that, sort of collecting on the ecstatic promise of what is possible for a human being to do.

Headed Home

Before stepping in the car for the six hour drive back to Oaxaca city over the mountains, I step on the beach at 7:30. The sand is just firm enough today to buzz one more 650, fastest of the week. I guess you can call it intervals if you run just one!

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