I am a hypocrite...who is still bad at math

After posting on Thursday regarding my lack of outside running due to my lack of interest in heat stroke... then I was a hypocrite. The very next day, I ran my workout of 10 miles (3 easy warm up, 4 at tempo pace (7:35-7:40 per mile), 3 easy cool down) in the 90 degree heat. Why, self, why???

I prepared as best I could. I drank a liter of water during my work day (in addition to 2 Diet Cokes) and carried a 24 ounce bottle of G2 with ice. I even ran with only my sports bra on in an attempt to be cooler. This resulted in a side stitch at the end of 1 mile because I was sucking in my stomach so hard. Homegirl needs to do some crunches.

I chose a neighborhood loop to do my tempo miles at. It is about 1.65 miles around (on an asphalt path) and 2.5 miles from my front door. Perfect. I placed my bottle in the bushes at the head of the loop so I wouldn't have to carry it.

I continued my warm up for .5 miles after I set down the bottle (I tried to hide it so it wouldn't be licked by dogs or mistaken for litter). The Garmin beeped 3 miles at I was off! I ran as fast as I thought I should be - working very hard, but not sprinting. It was hot. Thank goodness there was a breeze, but every time it blew I could feel the heat radiating off of the asphalt. My garmin hit 4 miles and I pressed the lap button to see what my time was. 7:37 - perfect!

I stopped at 4.2 miles as I was at the end of the loop and needed a drink. Believe me when I tell you every orifice on my body was sweating.

I decided to run my next lap on the street instead of the asphalt - hoping that it would be a half a degree cooler. I think it was. When the wind blew it was still hot air, but not the waft of fire that came off the newly blackened path. I don't know what my second tempo mile pace was because I malfunctioned when hitting my lap button.

By the third tempo mile, I was starting to question my wisdom of doing this workout out of doors. My shoes were soaked, my clothes were soaked and I was starting to feel like I might hurl purple G2 on someone's petunias - though it would match nicely. I couldn't totally give up - but I did slow down. Miles 3 & 4 were 7:47 & 7:57. And. I. Was. Spent.

I wobbled home hoping to remain upright and not to have to flag down a passing motorist to call BoyToy. I made it in one piece thanking the gods of water fountains in the park. It wiped me out - through Saturday's run as well. I felt dehydrated through Saturday evening.

I rebounded nicely with my Sunday long run and today I'm resting. I had adjusted my training plan to fit in better with my work week and found out I've been doing myself a complete disservice. My weeks were supposed to look like this:

Sunday - long run
Monday - rest
Tuesday - intervals
Wednesday - 10 miler
Thursday - short recovery run
Friday - 10 miler
Saturday - short recovery run

Instead, I was doing:
Sunday - long run
Monday - 10 miler
Tuesday - rest
Wednesday - intervals
Thursday - 6 miler
Friday - 10 miler
Saturday - 7 miler

I was being very good about running my paces, but by moving the schedule around and running a few more miles here and there I was tempting the injury gods. I was giving my marching, er, running orders last night and from here on out, I PROMISE, I will follow my plan.

I will also pull a Sarah Palin and write my interval workouts on my hand because I still do too many with the wrong recovery times.