Intervals: they do a body good

Today was an up and down kind of day.  I started off with a staff meeting at 7:45 this morning, where we discussed time frames for setting up class configurations for next year's classrooms.  This means it's the time of year where we begin making plans for the upcoming year.  I find this point in time to be decidedly difficult.  I still have 6 full weeks with my current first graders and we are far from finished with the year.  However, mentally I'm supposed to start thinking about next year.  It's understandable--we need to plan ahead, and we need to do that planning before the school year is over.  But in my mind, the minute I start thinking about next year, I want to stop thinking about this year.  I can't let my body do that though, because it will only make this last month and a half all the more difficult than it already is.  And my current class of first graders deserves all of me, even in the last 6 weeks of the year.

And to add insult to injury, it's standardized testing time.  And oh how I detest federally mandated high stakes tests that determine how successful students are as learners, teachers are as teachers, and schools are as institutions of proper instruction.  My students, as first graders, do not have to take these tests--they have the luxury of waiting 2 more years until they are 8 years old to begin taking high stakes, high anxiety, uber important tests.  But this does not mean they are unaffected by the tests.  In elementary school, with the many varied needs of the test-takers, its an "all hands on deck" approach to finding proctors to give the tests.  This means that all out-of-classroom support staff (English Language Learner teachers, Special Education teachers, Intervention Specialists, para-educators, and even the Speech/Language teacher at times) must discontinue support for needy students for THREE weeks.

Let's paint a picture: students who struggle with academics, social skills, and/or language acquisition do not get the support they are used to.  Many students are pulled 30 minutes or more a day from my classroom to receive their supports.  Some students are pulled up to 2 hours a day for extra help.  So these students, who have come to rely on this time outside a classroom full of noisy children where they struggle to keep up are now left floundering all day.  And as I try my hardest to differentiate lessons even more than usual and provide extra support to these children in the classroom, my average and high functioning children feel left in the dust.

But the intention of this post was not to rant and rave about my hatred for high stakes testing of elementary students.  Let's just say that in the classroom, frustration in running high, tempers are quick to ignite, and 1st graders who aren't truly cognizant of their discomforts struggle to understand why everything is so different.

But then things happen that remind me of why I struggle through all of this.  Because they are children, and they are awesome.  Upon coming in from a recess filled with sunshine and real heat, one little girl curiously asks me, "Ms. Kaplan, do you sweat?"  And as I smile and begin to explain to her in a teacherly way that yes, in fact, I do, another little gentleman looks at her and says in a much more succinct and intelligent sounding manner, "Umm, she ran a MARATHON."  I watched the expression on the inquisitive girl's face as she strained her neural nerves to make a connection between running a marathon and sweat.  And I laughed somewhere deep inside.

And then, on this beautiful summery day, I let the kids go outside to write their poetry and sat back to soak in the sight of 25 little first graders sprawled out with clipboards on the grass, excitedly writing poems about the crows on the soccer field, the fly that landed on a pencil, the butterfly that flew by, "white puffy things" floating in the air.  And the birds flying "smoothly" in the sky.  And the tall giant trees ("don't try to eat me!").  Oh and the grass that looks like it's moving my itself.  And the bug ("there's a bug!!") on the path.  The whole world is just so exciting.

After all this excitement, I came home with enough time to walk Lucy for about 45 minutes and then head to my Team in Training practice, which is what I had fully intended to write about when I started this post (I apologize for bird-walking into standardized testing and poetic children).  I had a tough, but great run with my team.  Even though technically I am supposed to already be in taper for my marathon, I decided that I wanted to squeeze in just one more interval run.

I also remembered to set my watch so I could manually mark the laps of my intervals.  This way I know exactly how fast I was able to push it for each interval.  Today we decided on the same interval pattern we used last week: 1 min, 3 mins, 3 mins, 5 mins, 3 mins, 1 min.  During each of these intervals, the goal is to push yourself harder than you typically do for a training run.  In between intervals, the idea is to slow the pace back down for 1 minute of recovery.  Here's what that looks like in laps:

Laps 1 and 13 were warm up and cool down.  Even numbered laps were my intervals, odd numbered laps were my 1 minute recovery.  All of this added up to 4.5 miles of running in about 38 minutes.  Ideally, each interval should get faster than the one before, but I started a little too fast.  However, I was still able to give my all in the last minute long interval (lap 12) where I clocked a 6:37 average pace.  It was only a minute, but I've never clocked that speed before.  Seeing it there on the screen is quite satisfying.  And by the end of this run, all the pent up frustration, worry, and anxiety that built up during my day disappeared like a "white puffy thing" dissipating into the sky.

Having awkwardly tall, long lanky legs comes in handy for speed training.  When it's time to go fast, I extended my stride, pick up the pace, and kick up my heels (not the way you kick up your heels on the couch...quite the opposite).  I actually enjoy speed training most of the time...unlike hills which I just pretend to enjoy most of the time because I know they are so good for me.  Most of my running buddies are the opposite with these kinds of runs.  But my long legs don't take me up the hills any easier--in fact, I just have more weight to drag up that hill.

But now (unless I get antsy next week and do intervals again), I am officially in taper.  Mentally, this is one of the most difficult parts of training for me.  But let's save that discussion for when I'm deep in and more anxious.  It'll be way more entertaining that way.  For now, I'm ready for this roller coaster ride of a day to come to a close.  And so is Lucy.

Her hind legs are kicking as she runs through
her dreams.  I think I'll go try to do the same.
Goodnight!