Improvised Speedwork - No track, No problem

I'm limited on time today. It's an important day, and running unfortunately has to take a back seat. Today is my Dad's funeral. Let's see if I can pack a high-intensity workout into about 20 minutes, and get a good sweat going. There's no track in my Mom's neighborhood, but a city block should do just fine. I eyeball it, and figure it's slightly longer than the 400 meter gravel track I'm used to at Brockton Oval, so let's call it 500. Sprint 500, jog 500, sprint 500, jog 500, and so forth. My goal is 4 sprint laps, and I'm not one to let my goal slip away. I pick the most level block I can find, and I'm off to the races!

Leave it to some jerk to park their SUV right at the front of their driveway, blocking the sidewalk and forcing me to run out into the road. I'd rather not do that, since who knows what kind of idiot might come speeding around the corner and clip me, or worse. But hey, nothing's gonna stand in my way! By the way, I shouldn't have had that 2nd beer last night, but I did.

Lap #1 was a little labored. It's cold outside, and being short on time, I didn't exactly warm up properly. The first lap is my warm-up, so be it. The first rest lap couldn't come soon enough, and I'm chugging along like a steam train. Actually, the cold air burns my lungs more like coal. Sprint #2 rolls around, and I'm feeling a little better. As I finish the lap, I think I see a little set of eyes peeping through some curtains at me, but I can't be sure. Maybe it's a kid.

I grind out my 3rd Sprint and let out a big grunt at the end. My water bottle is still in the same bush where I left it, so I scoop it up and take a big swig, careful not to drink too much so I don't cramp up or feel that slooshy-feeling in my guts. Boy, I feel like crap today! Maybe it's sprinting on pavement (don't usually do that), maybe it's the poor night's sleep last night, maybe it's the 2 beers, and maybe, just maybe it's the 4-hour time difference.

I usually do my speedwork in a group, with someone almost as fast as me. Today it's all about personal best, and I can tell I'm not running as fast as I can. With nothing to lose, I come around that final turn and just give it everything I have! Why not? As I cross the imaginary finish line, legs exploding, lungs burning, I notice that little set of eyes from earlier. I inch a little closer and expect to see a small child. "Woof!" My spectator is a Jack Russell Terrier! Maybe next time, Jackie boy will time me, because I have no idea how close I was to a minute. I need a track and a clock. I consider today's speed workout a failure, or at least a warmup.