No matter how many times I do these types of sessions, no matter how many times I take myself to that dark place, no matter how many times I say ‘never again’ I just seem to come back for more and really push it every single time.
Make no mistake, of all the training I have done in my life time, nothing compares to what can be done on the erg. It is brutal, it is unforgiving, it is relentless, it makes you question your true ability to push. Red sessions are horrific.
I mean there is no other way to do these right?
So it began.
As usual I spent the day stewing. I could have trained at lunch time, I could have trained early afternoon but I seemed to find myself just sitting at my desk staring. Staring at the training schedule in big red colouring saying ‘Monday – 6x500m on 90 secs rest – twice’.
I popped a message on the Q-Power Forum asking if anyone else had gone yet. The silence spoke volumes. Jen Howse finally popped and said that she had done it. I asked her how it was, her response told me everything I need to know – ‘It hurt’. I mean come on what was I expecting?
With my lack of current speed I knew I had to push hard today (as all red sessions) and I knew pushing hard was going to hurt. It would be mentally hard too knowing what was around the corner, so there had to be some element of pacing. But for maximum benefit and maximum adaptation I had already agreed with myself I was going to hit the first set hard and then deal with second half when it came around.
Now the suffocation feeling from last weeks lack of CO2 tolerance has subsided some what and the problem has gone back to what it should be during speed work – just general pain and the strong taste of burning acid in the throat.
I fired through the first 6 x 500m’s with aggression with just a hint of control in the last 2 sets resisting the urge to completely bury it. I tried to keep the pressure on and pulled through the line. That was hard enough thanks as I started the stop watch to what would be the quickest 8 minutes of my life.
I opted for the bike as my recovery tool just to keep the legs turning. I felt sick deep inside but couldn’t ascertain if it was from the previous work or the fact that I had to do it again. Either way I felt pretty rough as the mind wondered backwards and forwards.
I hopped back on with a lower target in mind – it had to be, anything else would be true suicide but still had to be brave and push on hard.
Not much to say, they came and went. I took it piece by piece and tried to sit on the edge. The heart rate was not as high in the second lot – a sign that the lactic is so overwhelming it is like rowing in treacle, stopping you in your tracks. With legs screaming I tried in vain to keep the rate up and squeezed on the last piece with venom.
Through the line and my first thought was about composure. A few seconds and then really try and sit up and row it out. ‘Never again’ – was the immediate thought but somehow I just keep coming back for more.
Now let mother nature do her thing ……
