Okay, maybe that is a bit dramatic, but it turns out treadmill running can be extremely dangerous.
Yesterday, between story time, my normal every day demands and getting my house and yummy treats as ready as possible for book club that I was hosting, I had 6 miles of tempo intervals on the running schedule. I knew the day was going to be crazy so I had at one point thought I'd get up and run before Dan left for work but again, that extra few hours of sleep won out. I just can seem to drag my lazy self out of bed in the mornings any more... I don't know if it's my lack of "fun" running routes or the fact that when I woke up in the middle of the night it was pouring like it only can on the coast or maybe it is the 8 month old that still likes to wake up a couple of times... whatever it is I've lost my early morning running mojo. Probably, it's more of the knowledge that I have Stanley the treadmill as backup. So, Stanley it was.
Anyway, the perfect opportunity presented itself, breakfast was over, dishes were washed, Leona and Jonny were engrossed with Seasame Street and Euan was happily playing with toys. I booted up Stanley and got to running. 10 minute warm up... no problems. 1st tempo repeat, check, recovery interval, check, 2nd tempo repeat, check, recovery interval... good, but here comes Jonny. Cue, near death experience #1:
Hi Mommy. You running?
Hi kiddo. Yep.
Yep. You done with Seasame Street?
Me, watch you & play with Euan? (drives me crazy that this kid calls himself "me")
Sure, but be careful.
He climbs into the playpen... then back out again and starts riding the tricycle... then back in again... then he has a soccer ball... then he's back in again... then he's back out again... About this time, my recovery interval is over and I power Stanley back up to my tempo speed and I'm off. 2 minutes go by and out of nowhere... WHAM!! An errant soccer ball slams into my legs. Whoa!
Oops! Sorry Mommy!
I amazingly keep my balance... I still don't know how. Trust me, you don't want to be running at 85% of your max speed on a moving piece of machinery while soccer balls are attacking you. It's not fun.
You're funny, Mommy!
No, Jonny, I'm not funny. Please don't kick the soccer ball at me. In fact don't kick the soccer ball anywhere near the treadmill.
Okay Mommy... sorry.
Despite Death's warning, I continued on and finished the tempo interval, then onto my recovery time, then onto tempo #4 followed by recovery then tempo #5. At this point I was feeling pretty confident, forgetting my brush with disaster and really getting into a groove. I was 3 minutes into the 4 minute speed work, thinking about how I only had one tempo interval left when all of a sudden... WHAM!!! Stanley came to a complete stop and the garage lights went out. Let me just say, when you're running fast the last thing you want to have happen is for the treadmill to quit moving. Somehow I didn't fall or kill myself but I know that my legs did some weird buckling thing and it must have looked pretty odd because the peanut gallery again offered up the tasteful cheer of:
You're funny, Mommy!
Even Dan laughed at me.
I spent several minutes turning on and off all the circuit breakers in the house but to no avail. I put on my wellies and tromped around my house in the rain in a running skirt and compression socks looking for an outside circuit, while I'm sure my neighbors laughed at me through their curtains. Nope. I then texted our landlord to see if there were some hidden circuits somewhere that I didn't know about. Nope. So, I did what any sane person, who desperately wanted to finish their workout, would do... ran up and down the stairs about 30 times. Might not be the same as tempo work, but I'll call it hill work and call it a day.
In the end, I got in most of my work out, made it to story time, and had the house presentable enough for book club... even if we didn't have a kitchen light so I suppose all is well. Well, except for Stanley and our garage which are still out of commission... I just might find my early morning running mojo after all.