The 400 meter sprints

There were 23 shots of 400m in 1m30s spiked, all with an interval of 1m30s without stealing anything and now there were only 2 shots left! Only 2 shots!

The problem is that this interval, which was even comfortable at the beginning, now seemed to run at x4 speed, like we do with those 1 hour long sneaker review videos on YouTube, and we have to keep accelerating to look for the information we want. The pulse just won’t come down and I’m still panting like a lost seal in a steamy sauna. And the legs are as hard as concrete, it’s going to be hard to do! The last one was already right at the edge of the threshold of the depths of my lungs.

I leave. With 20 meters I already realized that it will not work. I insist. Halfway through the first corner, I feel like throwing up. Safe, I open the first straight looking like a Kombi with a monstrous game in the direction, I can’t run straight but ok, I closed the first 200m and I’m still in the game, passage to 44s45. But this second curve seems too steep, I almost trip on the brick inside, I try to swerve to compensate and open the last straight in lane 2 without really knowing how I ended up there. I know I’m a little slower than the first 200m, but just a little bit slower, not much, just a little bit. I insist. It’s cadence and rhythm, not pure speed, just keep it up. I insist, I insist, I insist.

There are about 40, 30, 20 meters to go and the hand is on the clock to catch the mark. I step on top of the line and hit: 1m31s88. I lost too much time somewhere in the last 200m.

I’m pissed! What the fuck? I’m a long distance runner, why do I need to do this short shot thing? I’m even more pissed off for screwing up on the penultimate shot, motherfucker, I was on the verge of puking but I think I could do it, man! It would, I’m sure it would, just lengthen the stride a little, it could only have been that damn curve. Ahhh!!

I try to take deep breaths, but I’m still hyperventilating. I look at the clock thinking there would still be about 60 seconds left for the last shot and actually it’s time to leave. No, it’s not possible, dammit! My bpms are higher than when I finished the 24th shot, damn! It won’t. Leg, concrete, breath, seal, I’m screwed. But I’ll go.

All over again. I leave and at the end of the curve I already feel like throwing up, I must have left very hard because of the anger at the last shot, I’m going to try to hold on to the first straight and push only on the last one, but the problem is that even holding on I already I’m pushing like hell and the curve isn’t enough, dammit!!

I walk the 200m to… I can’t see it, it’s all blurry, wait, because my heel is passing by my ear and…

…

Dark.

…

Light.

…

Open your eyes. I’m in heaven? No, it’s the sun. There are people screaming to make room. I try to move while trying to remember what happened. Then they tell me that I fell at the end of the straight. I think I tripped over my own foot, I don’t know, all I know is that I’m scratched up to my leg.

I look at the wrist. 1m29s…30s… I hit the lap. Again the 1m31m88, only this time I’m standing still and lying on the other side of the track. The people around, instead of pausing my watch, went to get water, damn it. I won’t be able to close the 25 shots in the fucking time! I’m pissed off again. And tired.

I drink the water they give me. I threw up everything and a little more, there was no time to leave the track. I washed lane 1, it’s not just water, it’s gel, bread and whatever else, yuck!!! Next time I stop on the 23rd shot, I don’t screw up the guys’ training, I don’t get all worked up, I’ll be able to train the next day (tomorrow there won’t be a run) and I’m sure the coach will understand.

But what about me? Will I manage not to try the 24th? The 25th? 400 for 1m30s, smoothie, it’s not that hard, go!