Right, so the last post was quite open about my simply getting fed up.
That’s not entirely changed but I’m not bloody giving up without a fight.
We went back to basics and my having to ensure I recorded my sessions properly.
Last weekend was the 2015 edition of the Thames Path 100. Now, most of you who know me will realise that Centurion duties are very high on my priority list. This is not to say my training is not important but it is an unfortunate clash right now. I had assured Eddie I would be able to find time over the weekend to get a 90 minute jog in. All was looking good after we set the runners off at 10am on Saturday and then suddenly before I knew it I was pulled over in a lay-by at 5pm on Sunday so desperate for some sleep. I finally made it home and just couldn’t face a run. I could hardly spell my name let alone tie my laces up.
So begins the log of the weeks training :
Monday : As always after one of the 100 milers we put on I spend the Monday feeling thoroughly hungover. Seemed sensible then that I went into work too right. Not. I spent all day feeling sick. The planned 5 miler did not happen. This fresh start is going well.
Tuesday : Messaged Eddie and fessed up that that the weekend and Mondays sessions didn’t happen. I was promptly informed that I could have NO MORE missed sessions and that every time I miss a session a puppy dies. I pulled on my shoes and crawled out the door for an interval session. 10 w/u 1,2,3,4,3,2,1 @9mm (2m r) 10 c/d. Ouch. Really ouch. Sooooo windy – felt like I was running into a tornado no matter which way I went.
Wednesday : Rest glorious rest. I’m good at these sessions.
Thursday : Election Day. What a fucking disappointment that was. Anyway, I voted and toddled off for a 3 mile run. The first 2 were ok but the last 1 was an absolute struggle. Felt like my legs were made of concrete. I just don’t understand this. I know I’m heavier all over and I’m working on that but this is ridiculous. It’s like every step is a struggle. How the hell am I going to cope over bloody LL50?!?
Friday : Rest *does a tap dance of the likes Riverdance would be proud of*
Saturday : (switched this with Sundays session) An easy run of between 30 and 45 minutes. Dodgy belly came back to visit on this one so it was quite an unsettled run with lots of enforced walk breaks.
Sunday : 15 miles was the plan and in lieu of making an effort to get out of London for this I decided a jog up to Hyde Park and 3 laps and then jog home would suffice. I didn’t factor in the sun and the tourist combo. I certainly got some side stepping and emergency diversion practice in. More importantly though, how do I find the only fekking tree root in Hyde Park?!? It was quite a stylish face plant and then roll into a sitting position. Looked like I meant to do it. One passerby out of zillions asked me if I was ok and I snapped “my pride isn’t”. I didn’t actually mean to snap at the poor fella … it’s not like he tripped me. This was at 2.5 miles in … seriously I had literally only just got to the park! I managed 2 laps after this and was over come with ‘fed-up ness’. I hadn’t planned this well at all. No food or water with me. My arm and knee were now stinging, my shoulder ached and my boobs were protesting the house keys jabbing them every second step. Luckily I had a £10 in my pocket so I bought some water and a slice of lemon cake and threw myself down in the grass and felt quite bloody sorry for myself. I jogged home for a total of just 11 miles. Eddie is not impressed and neither am I.
So while no puppies were killed in the making of this blog there were a few that were sadly maimed ……