I Hate You, I Love You, I Hate That I Love You: Track Workouts

Yep, I hate you track workouts. But I also kind of love you. I love how you hurt so good sometimes, but then other times I hate how you use me up.

I am nervous each time I toe that line on the track. It’s a different nervous than when I’m running cross country style. The track is all smooth and level with no barriers or terrain changes to impede my running. I have no excuses for slower running. I have nothing to look at to distract me. It’s just me focusing on my speed and it’s horribly wonderful, or is it wonderfully horrible? Either way I’m challenged and I’m forced to work on getting better. There is nowhere for me to hide. I’m on total display.


When the cross country girls and I run the trail or retention pond or around other areas of the school we get to explore. We have objects to dodge and interesting things to look at. When the girls and I run the track, we are right there, running circles, in full view. It’s very convenient for the coaches to yell at me, “Arms, Dendy! Use your arms! ARMS!” and other helpful corrections. When I hear this, I focus on my arms. It is good for me to have someone watching me run and evaluating my form. This is a true gift. I am appreciative of the feedback and I’m always quick to thank the coaches for taking the time to notice me and scream at me. This is true. But, I also kind of hate it. Sometimes it feels like they’re mean … then I remember that I’m just being emotional and the best runners focus on the practical, not the emotional, and I tell myself to quit being a sensitive wuss. Incidentally, this whole notion of emotion vs. practicality in running is something that intrigues me and I’ve written about it before. But I digress. I am thankful for the corrections and I earnestly try to implement all of the corrections I receive when I’m out running without coaches present.

But I still can’t help the way I feel. On the track I always feel inferior. I feel like I have no place on the track. You see, I don’t exactly consider myself a real athlete. Real athletes are fast. Real marathoners have Boston qualified. I’m over here still trying to break four hours on my marathon. Now, of course, I realize that I am a real athlete and many people would kill for a 4:10 marathon, I know this. But I still can’t help but feel that I’m not fast and I’m a fraud and everyone else thinks so too.


Now, I work hard. I really do. And I try not to give up. I really do. So all of this makes me an athlete and it truly makes me proud, but for some reason when I get on that track, any running confidence I once had goes out the window. Incidentally this also happens when I run with fast people, run in a new situation, on random neighborhood runs, etc. So maybe the common denominator is me and not the track, huh?

So, slowly, running is teaching me confidence and speed work on the track is the ultimate test of my confidence.

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