Gilbert tricked us. He said we were to do five mile repeats. “That means you need to do the first one sloooooww. For you guys … a 6:50 pace.” So of course it seemed like everyone went out too fast. I was last in my group and coasted in at 6:45. I didn’t feel good at all.
6:30 was the mandate for the next repeat. Again, it seemed like people were out much too fast, I was at the back of the pack, and I had to pick it up to come in at 6:34. Still didn’t feel much in the tank.
“Now you maintain … 6:30 again …” was the advice for the third repeat. 6:21. Feeling a little livelier.
“Ok, this is your last one.” Aha, he tricked us. Secretly, I was counting on this all along. “Now is when you drop the bomb,” he said. “You mean the bong?” Someone thought they were funny. I thought, whatever I have, I’m going to drop it. There was some new kid in the group who started the repeats with the faster group and came down to ours for this lap. Let’s disregard his nuclear warhead and consider my bomb duly deployed in 5:47.
It felt good.