Day 203 Saturday 21st July 19.7 miles : miles
to date 1337.2
I have well and truly learnt my
lesson about fuelling in preparation for a decent run after the discomfort of
Thursdays run. I shovelled the food in yesterday and it paid off this morning.
The schedule had me down for 16 miles in two hours, which was 7.30 pace and a
little over 3.15 marathon pace. Having sent out my normal Thursday e-mail to the
long distance boys and girls to organise today's run, there was a distinct lack
of take up to join me, albeit the crew were still going to meet for the normal
cross country. To keep that steady pace, I determined to steer clear of the
trails and stick to the road which is not my favourite surface.
I decided against a total billy no
mates run and met up with the crew for a few warm up cross country miles, before
peeling off and doing my own thing. The slight hiccup was that we covered nearly
three miles and my original sixteen at the right pace, didn't start until I
peeled. When I did, I found myself running on totally new streets and routes. I
know a huge number of trails in the county but because I don't use roads, I had
no real idea which one to take in places, as I was in a new area. I eventually
came close to the A1, which was the point to turn and head back. Fortunately
after a few miles, I found a turn to take me back to somewhere I knew. I totally
missed one village and the water tap I was heading for which meant I was a tad
thirsty when I got back.
I covered the main 16 miles in
somewhere just over 01:58 albeit I slowed in the last two miles as I had to go
cross country to find my way back to the car, with a bit of an ease down for the
last section. Good run, but it was great to finish with a wolfed down bottle of
milkshake and bbq salami. Told you I learnt my lesson.
Day 204 Sunday 22nd July 6 miles : miles to
date 1343.2
We have
travelled to the Loire valley in France for our summer holiday today. A friend
of mine has very graciously loaned me his house for free, which was an offer too
good to miss. I am slightly concerned at how my thirteen and fifteen year old
children are going to cope with no television, internet or any mod cons for
nearly two weeks, but hey ho. The only down side is that we are missing the
start of the Olympics in London although we will get back for the second week.
The Flying Scotsman has also somehow wangled tickets for the start and finish
area of the marathon which I am really looking forward to. The runners are being
sent on a loop course which will see them run through the same area a number of
times so I should be able to get a good view of how the pro's do it.
As for today's
run, the schedule had me down for six miles in forty minutes which was always
going to be hard after the best part of eleven hours travelling. Fi is also on
her schedule, so I decided to go out with her and just check out the area. We
arrived at the house, threw everything inside, put the kit on and went out. It
was still warm and a great deal hotter than the temperatures we have had at home
all summer. After a mile, Fi slowed and decided she wanted to go back and sort
things out so we parted. I found myself picking up the pace and gradually I
increased it until I was running around the pace I should have been on the
schedule. Not knowing the area, I just ran three miles one way and came back the
same way. I kept the pace steady, shouting a bonsoir at an older French lady who
was staring at me quizzically as I ran through her small hamlet, in my best
puffy accent. I let rip on the last mile and ran close to six minute mile pace
until I reached our old, converted farm house. I'm not quite sure where that
came from, but it amazed me to think that in a little over to weeks I'll be
watching the pro's run a minute quicker for the entire marathon. Quite
staggering really when you think about it.
Day 205 Monday 23rd July 5.2 miles : miles to
date 1348.4
The second day
of the trip and another very warm day, reaching twenty nine degrees late
afternoon. We have been to plenty hotter places, but after the summer we have
had so far at home, running in that felt like a furness. I was down for an easy
five miles in forty minutes and I was determined to take the full time. I set
off in another direction on what are quiet country roads. It felt a little
strange to be running on the left hand side of the road and for the cars to be
coming at me. I ran the first half around forty seconds too quick and had to
force myself to slow down. I was hot, tired, uncomfortable and a little
dehydrated which was not a good combination. I think my slow pace has moved up
to around seven forty five per mile and I struggled badly to let it drop to
eight minute mile pace, despite the discomfort I was in. It was good to get this
one out of the way and back to the pad for a few chilled beers and bar-b.
Day 206 Tuesday 24th July 8 miles : miles to
date 1356.4
Another baking
day with temperatures in the thirties and the after effects of the French vino
from last night, meant I put off today's run as long as possible. I struggle in
the heat at the best of times and the last thing I wanted to do today was a
solitary speed session in the middle of unknown countryside with cars being
driven on the wrong side of the road. The schedule had me down for around eight
miles, with a warm up/down and two eight two minute efforts sandwiched
in-between. It didn't say how fast to do them, but essentially its puffing hard
pace. I found what I hoped might be a quieter section of road and proceeded
along it at some pace. I resolved to run ten or twelve efforts to partly test my
will power. I also took a water bottle out with me for the first time in ages
and I noticed the weight and the awkwardness of it straight away.
I pushed hard
over the first five, with a minute recovery between each. At the halfway point,
I allowed myself two minutes recovery and repeated. By the end of the second
five, I knew that was my limit as my body was just screaming out to stop. I was
also wary that the schedule is a progressive one and decided to limit the
efforts to ten. By this stage, I was parched. I drank most of my bottle in one
go, thinking I only had a mile and a half back to home. The problem though was
having stopped to recover my bottle from where I had left it and drink, my legs
became very tired and heavy. I ended up crawling the last section home, albeit I
made myself take a different route through the village and at the end, take my
shoes and socks off to wade through a weir at the back of the house.
I was so
tired, the endorphins didn't kick in as normal and the usual runners high didn't
happen. In order to replicate that, I had a large pizza with some exceptionally
hot chillies on it which can cause the same reaction. It would be true to say
that I am addicted to running and chillies in equal measure, probably due to the
natural high they normally produce. So there you have it. You can run a marathon
or eat something very spicy and you'll get the same effect. Or like me, you can
do both and go for the double whammy.
Day 207 Wednesday 25th July 5.5 miles : miles
to date 1361.9
It was another
scorcher in the Loire Valley today and I knew that I was always going to
struggle to cover anything close to the schedule either in terms of distance or
pace. I'm not a warm weather runner and with temperatures in the mid thirties,
it was exceptionally uncomfortable. As we are on holiday, the family came first
and we spent the day doing tourist type activities checking out Samur Chateau
and the area. I was out on my feet by the time we arrived home and it was all I
could do to put the trainers on and get out the door. I knew instantly that the
scheduled eleven miles were out of the window and I ploughed on up the road for
as far as I could in what felt like an oven, such was the heat and humidity. The
run was painful, hard and quite honestly I didn't enjoy a single step. I was
very glad to get this one over with.
Day 208 Thursday 26th July 5 miles : miles to
date 1366.9
Another day,
another furness and another terrible run. This time we spent the day walking
around what is the best Zoo I have ever been to, at Doue-la Fontaine. We last
went there thirteen years ago and I was very glad to see that it was even better
than I recalled. The Zoo itself is set within a vast area of excavated rock, so
its below ground level and totally immersed into the landscape. The enclosures
are very large and they undertake important breeding programmes. It was also the
hottest day of the visit so far. None of us drank enough water in the heat, so
by mid afternoon I had a headache and felt awful. The beers and vino I had last
night added to my misery and I felt everyone one of my forty five years. Crumbs
that sounds old. Its my birthday today and I have reached that milestone.
As soon as we
arrived home we all just flaked out for an hour until I was presented by Fi with
my new go fast running shoes. She was resplendent in her shorts and Ampthill and
Flitwick Flyers running vest, looking every inch like a runner. I very
reluctantly pulled on my kit and we set off up the road. It really was so hot,
that when I breathed when running, I could almost feel my internal organs having
to work overtime to cope with the extra demand. We managed just a mile or so up
the road, when Fi wanted a walk. Now, we are both fit enough to run more than a
mile or so, but I was also glad for a brief stop. Unless you have run in that
sort of heat, its hard to describe just how uncomfortable it was. We decided
that in order to keep my streak going properly I would run on a bit, double back
and get Fi moving which we did then basically all the way out and back. Towards
the end, it was all I could do to get it to the five mile mark at a snails pace
and for the second day in a row, this was an un-enjoyable run. Bit of a shame
really, seeing as how it's my birthday and all that, but hey ho it was, what it
was.
There are a
few benefits to moving into the 45 bracket in race terms. Whilst my club only
has post forty, post fifty etc sections, some races will have a forty five to
forty nine section, which might increase my chances of coming higher up in that
category. Time will tell.
Day 209 Friday 27th July 7 miles : miles to
date 1373.9
I am without
doubt the only one in the family to be happy to see the rain arrive today,
bringing with it cooler temperatures. I have never been one for laying around in
the sun for too long and the last few days have made it crystal clear to me that
I don't run well in warmer climates generally speaking. The heat seems to have
zapped my energy and my legs have felt like stone the last few days. With a drop
in the humidity, I felt a little like my older self - or should that be my
younger self - and took off down the road trying to keep a steady pace going.
Whilst this area of France seems to be almost entirely agricultural with vast
areas of vineyards, corn and sunflower crops in particular, there are just no
footpath signs going across the fields anywhere. I cant locate any footpaths on
the maps we have and as a result, I have been stuck to the road. I'm also a tad
uncomfortable as a result in running with headphones. Despite the fields being
everywhere, there are only two main ways to go from the house and I am already
bored with the road runs. I tried to change the route a little towards the end,
coming back through a close by village on a road we had not previously taken.
Still, there wasn't much to see at all. The architecture in this part of the
world flips from inspiring in places such as Le Puy-Notre-Dame, to downright
ugly in Argenton-l'Eglise which is near to where we are staying and the route I
took back. All low level, flat identikit house's that look like they have been
thrown up in a weekend. Still, if I wasn't out there running I wouldn't take
this all in and it adds to my running experiences.
The cooler air
did help and I was able to stick to a little under 7:30 pace albeit I didn't
feel overly comfortable. I have also eaten and drank far more this week than I
do normally and despite running every day I can feel the mixture rolling around
me inside, like cement and water in a mixer. I do enjoy the high life but being
a man of extremes, it doesn't mix with athletic plans.
Day 210 Saturday 28th July 3 miles : miles to
date 1376.9
Far too much vino, watching the Blues
Brothers until the early hours and then waking up at midday day was not a
promising start and the day unfolded in much the same way. After a few hours
trying to decide what to do, me, James and his potty uncle Sandy, decided to go
and visit a huge tank museum in Samur which we proceeded to walk around for
almost three hours. Another long afternoon without water, meant by the time we
had finished I was totally dehydrated and on checking, my wee was very yellow in
colour which only confirmed what I already knew. We returned home quite late,
after visiting a local village where there was going to be a vintage car rally
later tonight. We drove back home to see if the girls wanted to come and whilst
the cheap and cheerful pizza's were in the oven I ran around the village for a
spot on three miler. Even on a Saturday night the place just looks closed. There
is one bar which seems to open for limited times, a Tabac and chemist looking
place, both of which were closed. There were no people milling around and the
odd few that I passed looked at me quizzically, almost as if to say what on
earth am I doing? I wondered the same and in totally honesty, just ground out
three miles exactly before returning home and then onwards to the much more
enjoyable nocturnal rally.
Day 211 Part One Sunday 29th July 6 miles :
miles to date 1379.9
I didn't touch
a drop of the hard stuff yesterday but again still woke dehydrated. Fi had very
kindly made me a nice cuppa and I eventually hauled myself up, only to catch
sight of the other half wandering past the bathroom door with her kit on. This
was meant to be a long run day for me and I wasn't even in the mood for going
for a short one. Fi made me get my kit on and I decided to just go and see how I
felt. I don't like running with a belly full of food and last nights pizza's
were making me feel bloated and uncomfortable, although worse was to come. At
home, I have been able to run quite long distances without a water belt and
bottle and having to put one back on felt quite strange.
We set off
along a road that runs by the side of a river and a mile or so later, entered a
sleepy hamlet of what I would describe as typical classic French designed houses
and farm buildings. The type of stone they use, the design of the buildings and
most of them having shutters closed seemed to almost define the area. Again no
shops of any sort and almost no one on the streets, apart from an older lady
cycling up the road with a baguette stuffed in her basket who incidentally was
not wearing a stripped top with strings of onions around her neck.
The fact is
that Fi and I run at different paces. Just because I am quicker doesn't mean
anything, as we all just run to our ability. The slower pace did help though to
wake me up a little, until disaster struck. Last nights extra hot chillies which
we had brought with us from England, just erupted inside and I was forced to a
standstill on the side of the road with my legs crossed, holding on for dear
life. I knew there and then that my long run plans had just been abandoned and I
had to contemplate a No.2 there and then. The problem with rural France, is that
at least in our section, the leaves on the plants that grow just are not as big
as those back home and I couldn't find any suitable. I had no choice but to let
Fi run on, let the moment pass and then catch her up until it hit again. Which
it did around six times. I couldn't walk when it did and ended up running an
unintentional fartlek section having to catch Fi up each time. She just kept a
steady pace all the way, save the last half mile when she picked it up and I
couldn't catch her. I don't think I have ever been quite so relieved to finish a
run.
Day 211 Part Two Sunday 29th July 12 miles :
miles to date 1391.9
Having
wallowed around reading a couple of great books on running, I decided late
afternoon to go out for a blast and aim for twelve miles. I have run so badly
this week and I was feeling so bloated, that when I say blast I would have taken
around a seven thirty mile pace happily. As I set out, for the first time in the
entire week I felt fine and just pressed the gas a little until I found myself
trotting quite happily along at under seven minutes a mile. I was quite mindful
of the fact that I was still dehydrated, had run earlier this morning and didn't
have a water bottle with me as my wobbly tummy was just getting in the way. It
was cooler and the truth is that this mornings run hadn't taken much energy -
sorry Fi, no criticism its just how it is. I was aware that I should have
covered eighteen miles at seven thirty pace and choose a compromise. I decided
to run a little harder and limit the run to twelve miles, which would give me an
aggregate of eighteen at least for the day. I pushed out as far as I could,
albeit I had to turn for home before the six mile mark as the road was going
uphill to Le Puy-Notre-Dame and I was slowing already. At the turn, I suddenly
found quite a strong headwind that I hadn't noticed in the slightest on my back
on the way out. The route was entirely on the road as it has been all week and I
ran through a couple of small villages which just looked closed as they always
do, with hardly a soul about and most of the wooden window shutters that are
everywhere closed. The lack of people worked in my favour to an extent, as I
looked and felt so out of place. I did struggle in the last three miles as I
tired and I stopped bang on twelve miles in a little under eighty four minutes,
giving me an average pace per mile of six fifty eight which was a complete
surprise but none the less very gratifying. And there were no No.2 issues the
whole way around which was a bonus.
Day 212 Monday 30th July 3.2 miles : miles to
date 1395.1
What an
absolute stinker of a run I had tonight. I cant dress it up and say anything
other than it was a grinder out and no more.
We had decided
to spend the day in the French version of Walt Disney, a place called
Futurescope just outside Poitiers. Now I am sure when it was built twenty five
years ago, the futuristic designs may have been, well, futuristic but I'm afraid
to say that the venue hasn't aged well. Never the less, this is a family holiday
and I was determined to stay as long as the crew wanted, regardless of what ever
time I was going to have to get the miles in tonight. We wandered around all day
for around eight hours, easily covering I suspect three miles as we did. Fi and
I had it re-confirmed to us that with age, our ability to be turned upside down,
back, forth and generally be thrust in every direction on the rides, had long
ago disappeared. The attractions played havoc with me mentally and the walking
battered the body. As the day rambled on and we contemplated the late night fire
works, a run up the road after in my sandals and cargo shorts became a real
possibility as I would not have got home before midnight. Luckily hunger took
over and we de-camped for a long drive and late night McDonald's.
Shortly after
we were home around 10.30pm and I was straight out the door into the French
countryside with the mist rising, my legs already pummelled, my belly full to
the brim and totally shattered. This was one run I could very easily have
missed. Fi didn't even contemplate me not going and almost pushed me out the
door. The Owls were very loud, the full moon made the fog a tad scary, the place
looked totally different in the dark and all I wanted to do was stop. I didn't
and rolled in, nay fell into the back door well over twenty six minutes later
unable to even keep to an eight minute mile pace. The way I felt, I wouldn't
have cared if it was ten minutes plus. I don't mind admitting that all I wanted
to do was get it done, which I did but only just.
Day 213 Tuesday 31st July 7.5 miles : miles
to date 1402.6
As the song
goes, it "feeeelllss good" to slip into the fourteen somethings, even if I am
around fifty two miles short of the point I should be at to reach two thousand
five hundred miles for the year. That seemed like a massive number to me at the
start of the year, but it has faded into almost insignificance as a result of
reading about Ron Hill in a book I have just finished mainly about the Hundred
Marathon club in which he features. Ron is on a forty five year continuos
running streak, clocking up a hundred and fifty five thousand miles in the
process. Now that is a proper achievement and makes me feel quite wimpish in
comparison. I'm not quite sure how to break the news to Fi that I've got at
least another forty four years plus for this streak to count, not least because
Ron doesn't look like stopping anytime soon and that catch up period can't start
until he stops. What an achievement by a truly legendary British runner, one
which should be far wider recognised in circles beyond us runners but the wider
public at large.
It was another
hot day which I mostly spent on a chair in the sun reading another great book
about a chap obsessed with marathons, running very similar times to me, many of
the same races, with two children, a wife called Fi and a mother in law called
Stella (same as mine's). The comparisons between us are amazing. However, his
book is witty, sharp and very well written which is where they stop. Fi and my
erbert of a son, take great delight in telling me I'm not funny on a daily
basis. Hmmpph. Having read numerous chapters and trying to pick up writing tips
- which so far have not worked - when I tried to move my entire front was
lobster red with my back being snow white. I was so engrossed in the book I had
hardly moved and looked already like a neapolitan ice cream at my tan, er ok
burn, line. I had to get out and run before the pain kicked in, so Fi and I had
a mile trot around the village before I set off to run fifteen four hundred
metre efforts each being around one minute thirty seconds. The chap in the above
book hated intervals but had just clocked his fastest time ever after three
months of doing them. I was always going to try and that little chapter just
spurred me on a little. I counted up to eight, didn't stop at halfway and
carried on with a minute jog in-between which probably should have been less. I
kept up the efforts although I did slow in the last few to around a six fifteen
pace as the sun, effort and lack of water took its toll (I had placed a bottle
by a tree with Fi's, but some unhelpful children thought it highly amusing to
totally empty the contents. Grrrr.) Fi also managed her own three miles in the
heat and is bang on schedule for her first half marathon debut in around seven
weeks.
Effort done,
it was back to the business of re-hydration with beer followed by a wine tasting
session where both of us decided we liked the bottle costing just over a pound
the best. I've always been a cheap date. The bonus was that my radiation red
skin attracted all the moths and kept them off the others, albeit the glasses of
vino became hidden against my body.
Day 214 Wednesday 1st August 7 miles : miles
to date 1409.6
If yesterday was an unexpectedly good
session, today was an almost predictably poor one. I seem to be having more poor
runs than good on this holiday, which is a reflection of a number of different
factors conspiring together to beat me up. The obvious one's are the heat and
the holiday vino/beer consumption. I am trying hard not to let the runs get in
the way of the holiday, which means they fit in around us rather than the other
way around. If the family feel like a day trotting around tourist places such as
Saumur and local wine caves, so be it off we go as we did today. I am clearly
walking a great deal more than I would do in a normal work day at home, when I
am often chained to a desk. Our eating habits and sleeping patterns have
changed, which is also effecting my running. We have been eating breakfast very
late, which the means lunch is in the middle of the afternoon and dinner at gone
9pm most nights. Going to bed on a full-size stomach and already a little
dehydrated inevitably means three or four wakes, to either have a No.1 or drink
some water, so I am waking up still tired.
Combine all of the above with fairly
dull routes on the roads meandering around us, meant that today I had another
shocker. There is no point in trying to dress it up as anything else. The
schedule had me down for twelve and by the time we got home, I had to alternate
days and go for eight quicker ones instead at below seven minute mile pace. I
kept that up for precisely two point four miles when I just gave in to my
screaming legs and slowed before coming to a stop a little later. I just had
nothing at all in the pins and after regaining some composure I pushed on
determined at least to do the eight. In the end, I slowed so badly that when
mile seven conveniently coincided with our front door, I just stopped.
Exhausted, uncomfortable and more concerning disliking every blooming step.
Yesterdays hard session contributed greatly to my poor run and I am experienced
enough to know that some day's you can just do it and some you can't. I can't
yet say that I am finding running at sub seven minute mile pace comfortable on
every run, although I do find some cheer in the thought that sub seven thirty
mile pace is becoming easier which has to be a reflection of an increased
fitness level, albeit it one that I am seriously damaging with this holiday
malarkey.
Still, its nice to enter month eight
of the year challenge although I can't quite believe how quickly the year itself
is flying by. And yes, the policemen really are starting to look younger.
Day 215 Thursday 2nd August 12 miles : miles
to date 1421.6
I picked a route and asked Fi to
collect me up an hour and a half later in a non de-script seemingly closed
French village in the middle of no where in particular. By now I had learnt the
lay of the land and happily set off in the opposite direction, dodging as I did
huge tractors with a seemingly unending supply of hay bales. To be entirely fair
to the French, whilst they may not be terribly friendly towards the Brits, I was
always given lots of room by the different variety of oncoming traffic, which
included 2 CV's, lorries, mostly French designed cars and a mixture of farm
traffic.
In contrast to less than twenty
four hours before, I was able to run quite comfortably at around a seven fifteen
mile pace in the early miles and even had to slow myself down for fear of later
burnout. I eventually went through seven miles, four minutes quicker than last
night despite running an average slower pace from the start, which is where the
disco era kicked in and weave its magic. Despite the vino and the wobbly belly
that I have grown rather quickly, a seven thirty pace appears on the whole to be
a pace that I can sustain without real discomfort. That's not to say that I can
whack out the miles at that pace endlessly, but certainly for today's run in the
main it was fine. I held the pace as one great track fell into another. The
Jackson Five, the Gibson Brothers, Imagination, Southern Freeze and
Funkapolitian did their magic, amongst others to help the early miles fade away.
I did tire in the last two and a half miles, which may partly have been due to a
real need for water as I had gone out on purpose without a bottle. At that
point, I moved onto rockier stuff and it was a little surreal to run through yet
another apparently closed French village, with God Save the Queen by the Sex
Pistols bellowing in my ear drum.
Despite slowing at the end and
running straight past Fi who was to early, I finished with a seven twenty two
average mile pace in one hour twenty eight minutes and some seconds. Fine enough
running, but no where near to setting my particular running world alight
although after last night, I will take and embrace it with both arms. For now.
And so, onto the vino. I am still on my hols you know, although the day of total
abstinence and a proper diet draws near.
Day 216 Friday 3rd August 3 miles : miles to
date 1424.6
Crumbs, the bones were not happy at
the mile crunching today. Am I getting too old for this running lark? Mmm, I
think not. One of the runners from my club that I admire the most is the amazing
Dave Sedgley. Sedgers is now in his seventy first year and is slowing down a wee
bit from the earlier years when he was around a three hour marathoner. Time
effects us all and as I feel sorry for my self at a mere forty five years young,
I drew on inspiration from thinking about the man himself as I ached around a
mere three miler. In 2011, Sedgers finished his one hundredth marathon whilst
running a one hundred mile race at seventy years of age. If you cant get
inspiration from a man like that, you might just as well sit down and take up
cross stitching, whatever that is? Still, I have to confess to a grumpily run
and in truth a boring three mile run up the same road, to the same closed French
hamlet where nothing moves, except dogs. The one thing that will stick with me
from this holiday is that there are hardly any people in rural France, but there
are plenty of small, highly vocal yappy mutts.
Day 217 Saturday 4th August 3 miles : miles
to date 1427.6
The schedule had me down for a park
run three miler as part of a five mile run, but in rural France they don't have
parks. They have vast areas of farmland but no parks and certainly no obvious
cross country trails. I have spent the last two weeks running on roads and the
legs are starting to feel the pain of too much concrete. There was no choice
this morning other than to hit the roads again. Its going home day and with a
very long drive, lots of packing, a hangover and the constant dehydration it was
either a slow run around the village or mull it over for eight hours in the car
and run at home. I choose a very slow trundle into the centre of Argenton
L'Eglise and with a lap of the village I pulled into the Tabac, hot, very sweaty
and asking for once last "deux pains s'il vous plait" . I wandered the mile back
trying not to perspire too much on the bread tried to enjoy the last run in what
is the idyll where we have been staying. All done, it was just a little matter
of a drive that took all day and boy was I glad when I got home that I had run
in the morning.
I eventually tried to run at five
o'clock, when the heavens opened and it poured. Ahh, its great to be home. I got
stuck in-between types of runs. I was tired, overweight, under motivated and
lacking in energy. I didn't have the drive to run twenty miles late on a Sunday
after the last few days, but equally I had no choice but to do something more
than just chugging out a few miles. As it happens, as soon as I started to run I
felt fine and found that I was again running at around a seven ten mile pace. I
intentionally slowed although still went through the first four miles feeling
fine in under seven thirty pace, which for some reason alarmed me. Not that long
ago, I would have been very happy to run four miles in thirty minutes, but being
at home, the air being a lot thinner and no humidity, I kicked on and picked the
pace up. At around five miles I closed in on another runner who was probably
around an eight minute mile pace and intentionally stepped as I didn't just want
to chunter past. I have no issue with faster runners passing me and it's not a
question of being macho, but the simple fact is that I didn't want to have him
behind me for the next two miles on the straight road in front of us, which
meant I covered the next four and a half miles around two minutes quicker and
beating my old 10k PB time.
At eight and a half miles, the third
part of the run kicked in. I just knew I couldn't cover what I should be doing
schedule wise and arranged to meet Fi, who had a seven mile run planned as part
of her GNR training. I pushed hard to the meeting point and was very glad to see
her. I hope she knows that I am enormously proud of her achievements and also
grateful for the help she has given me this year. Without that meet and the
knowledge that come what may I was out for another seven miles, I might just
possibly have gone home. We proceeded to wander around a not unfamiliar route
and as we did, I tired badly. My breathing was fine but my legs, knees and feet
were sore and very tired.
I am a little concerned that over
the last two weeks, all I have done is run on the road. Whilst I know that I
have partied hard on holiday and the over indulgence's don't help, that hasn't
caused my legs to feel just so tired and as sore as they now feel. I think that
a significant reason for the way they feel tonight, is the fact that I have done
no training at all on anything other than hard concrete and I think it has
played a part in what I feel to be a slow down, alongside the partying.
At the start of the year I hoped to
still be doing this as the Olympics unravelled. I dreamt of running long
distances on the same day as the greats of distance running. To watch the women
run the marathon today at a speed which I can only dream about, even if one of
my all time heroine's Paula Radcliffe isn't running, was truly inspirational. I
just don't think that your average television sports fan who doesn't do that
much, can really have any idea about the level of sustained speed they have to
maintain. Ladies, I am truly in awe on what was achieved in the marathon today
and I am inspired. Thank you.
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