The Treadmill Remains Undefeated

In my last blog, I posted some pictures of me running on a treadmill in the lab at the Olympic Training Center using supplemental oxygen. The treadmill in the lab (which I affectionately refer to as the “house of pain”) is not any old treadmill though. This specially made machine can go over 25 miles per hour, faster than any human. It is wider and longer than any commercially available model as well. Many of the best runners in the United States have been tested or trained on this treadmill. Those runners go on to win international competitions and beat the best runners in the world. Every one of them either has or will lose a race at some point in their careers. But because of its work over the years, the treadmill has a well earned tagline that reminds users to stay humble: “The treadmill remains undefeated.”

This morning, I once again went head to head with the treadmill for my Thursday morning supplemental oxygen run. At 5 weeks out from the Olympics, I could not be happier with my fitness and progress I am making. But this morning’s run would prove to be my biggest training challenge of my season… or maybe ever.

Before competing in the Olympics, I will go through a rest period to let my body fully recover and store glycogen, the body’s chief form of energy. Between now any my rest period, which will start in early August, I will be training harder than ever. So when I arrived at the lab this morning (Thursday) at 6am for my run, it had already been a long week. Since Monday, I had already swum three times for a total of 10 miles and run 26 miles including a difficult bout with the treadmill on Tuesday. Furthermore, this morning’s early start was not a welcome event for me.

After a 30 minute warm up, my running coach Alan dropped the bombshell on me. Today my workout would be running 3,000 meters in a simulated race. To make the simulation more real, I would do it at race pace. This was not totally unexpected, but it was completely unwelcome this morning. About 6 weeks ago Alan told me he would make me run a race simulation, but I expected it next week or the week after, and I expected it on a Tuesday when I would be more rested. But today was the day, and I trusted Alan knew what he was doing.

The objective of the run was to run the first kilometer in 2:55, the second in 2:50, and the final kilometer in 2:45. In mile pace, that is starting at 4:40 per mile and building to 4:24 per mile over a 1.82 mile distance. In layman’s terms, it’s really fast.

I did a few striders, short runs designed to loosen up my stride, to get going then got off the treadmill for a final stretching session before starting. Honestly, I find it a bit scary and intimidating to know how much pain I will make myself endure during a run like that, and we noticed that my heart started racing with anticipation and anxiety even before starting. Once I got up the nerve, I jumped on the treadmill and started my race. Within a minute, I could feel something was terribly wrong and I wondered if it was simply panic. 30 seconds later, things were getting worse and faster than simple panic or anxiety could explain. Then it hit me, maybe we had not turned back on the oxygen when I returned to the treadmill from stretching. With a frantic gesture to Alan, I conveyed my concern. He checked and confirmed that the oxygen was shut off and I immediately jumped off the treadmill.

About 10 minutes later, we took another stab at the race, this time with the proper oxygen supply. The difference was night and day. After 2:55 I made the comfortable transition to 2:50 pace and Alan recorded me at 174bpm or 92% of maximum heart rate. At 5:45, we again sped up to 2:45 pace and Alan recorded me at 181 or 95.7% of maximum heart rate. Ahead of time, Alan told me we could stop the race simulation if I exceeded 185 bpm or 98% of my maximum heart rate (it is pretty devastating to approach maximum heart rate and can take days to recover). At 7 minutes into the run, Alan said I could stop the race. Despite the pain, I felt I could tolerate it for 90 more seconds. Twice more, Alan told me I could stop if I wanted, but the competitive side of me kicked in and I determined to finish at all costs. At 8:30 I finished and clocked a 188 bpm heart rate or 99.4% of maximum heart rate. Despite the pain, I was ecstatic that I had completed the test.

Running that fast this far out from the Olympic gives me great confidence in where I will be five weeks from now. I don’t know if any other athlete will be able to match it at the Olympics, but I feel I am well on my way to having the fastest run/swim combination at the Games.

After the workout, I was talking with Alan and Randy (the USOC sports physiologist) about the run. Both were extremely impressed that I could post such a fast time in the middle of the season. After slapping each other on the back a bit, I turned to Alan and Randy and reminded them that regardless of how fast I had just run and how few, if any, other athletes in my sport could match me, we had to remember one thing: Unlike me, the treadmill still remains undefeated.