women running partners

Two bada$s mother runners: Molly (right) and I goofing off after a recent workout.

Unless my memory is fading faster than my ability to read the newspaper or a menu without eyeglasses, I can’t recall doing a track workout since spring 2011. The last one I recollect was when I was felled by plantar fasciitis during some final repeats before an upcoming half-marathon. Crumpling to the ground in pain and clutching my right foot: yeah, that memory stands out in my mind. But nothing since then.
Until last week: My running partner, Molly, got a crazy notion in her head that we needed to start training for half-marathons. (She’s signed up for a local race, and chances are very good I’ll be doing a women’s race the same weekend but in another state. Race TBA.) Usurping my usual role as the bossy half of our duo, Molly decreed we’d be add some track sessions to our training plan. So at o’dark-thirty last Monday morning, under a sliver of the moon, I was running in an oval, following Molly’s bouncing ponytail. Halloween-spooky fog crept across one end of the sunken track.
Given that I was 2.5+ years older than my last time around the track, I figured my times would be woefully slower. But thanks to a brand-new, bouncy surface, we hit the 400-meter mark at my previous mark of 1:55, and clocked that first 800-meter repeat (twice around the track) in 3:52. If our jaws weren’t already gaping for air, they would have hit the red, rubberized ground.

running on a track

Teenage runners, blitzing along faster than Molly and I could ever dream of going, on the new high school track where we run.

After each of the next five 800s, we were as awe-struck as after that first one: We couldn’t believe that two mother runners like us—who have been around the proverbial track of life more than a few dozen times—could nail the times we set out to run on our first track foray. Perhaps more shocking to us is that the fourth, fifth, and even sixth 800-meter repeats felt stronger and less lung-bursting than the first few, yet we still hit our times.
We practically skipped home, high-fiving each other with shouts of, “you’re a rockstar!” tripping off our tongues as we went our separate ways to pack lunches and drive carpools.  One week later (yesterday), I think we both worried the magic would have worn off, but as we cranked out five 1000-meter intervals, we marveled as we ran the 1000s at the same pace as the 800s. We started wondering whether the Nuun in our bottles had been replaced with water from the Fountain of Youth.
In case Ponce de Leon hasn’t been filling your H2O bottle lately, here are some tips for track workouts:
-Have a friend join you. Having someone by your side (or behind you) keeps you honest—and pushing hard.
-Trade leads. Yesterday Molly took the lead on repeats 1, 3, and 5, while I went first on the second and fourth 1000-meter repeat. Last week, Molly lead the charge on the first four repeats, whereas I took over on the last two after Mol said she was fading a bit.

Let Flo Rida transport you off the track. At least in your mind.

Let Flo Rida transport you off the track. At least in your mind.

-Do it in the dark. I swear repeats hurt less when you can’t see more than 50 yards in front of your face. (But bring a Knuckle Light to read splits on your Garmin!)
-Or do it in front of folks. The one time I ran on the track when students were tramping across it to get to school, I busted my hump to maintain some semblance of my sports-ego.
-Crank the tunes. When I don’t have Molly as my wingman, Linkin Park urges me to, “Burn It Down,” Selena Gomez reminds me to run, “Like a Champion,” and Flo Rida asks me, “How I Feel.” In other words: Music gets helps get your (and my!) rear in gear.
-Only hit the track once a week. In an effort to avoid an intersection with injury, run just 10% of your weekly mileage hard or fast. For me, knowing one track workout is followed by six days of no visits to the oval makes the laps feel ever-so-slightly easier.
Now it’s your turn: Tell us your secrets for making track sessions seem less daunting.