A strange run this evening. Felt like crap, ran like crap but felt bloody fantastic afterwards. But am now typing this with my leg raised, knee strapped in ice and a small bucket of ibuprofen being helped down by several glasses of a fine pinot.
Yes an odd one - my slowest ever 10km, and one only completed because not to finish it would seem so utterly pathetic after the efforts of Sweder
et al in South Africa. And indeed, the effort was rewarded with a nice endorphin hit, which has been rare of late, but very welcome. Had I pulled out of the run, as I dearly wanted to, it would have made the upcoming week's schedule very difficult to find motivation for, but as it is, I can hardly wait to get stuck into it. This despite a crook left knee and a blistered right heel, both of which will be pushed under the nose of my podiatrist tomorrow morning with a "please explain". I've decided to join the ranks of denial and refuse to accept responsibility for my running injuries at this point, given the $$$ and due diligence and Bambi-eyed faith I have put into the medical profession thus far.
Well I don't want to overstate the case. My knee is a tad sore, but nothing significant really.
So anyway, today's 10km ended 8 weeks and 200 km of phase one training. And pretty pleased with it I am additonally too as well also.
For now I'm off to re-read Sweder's mighty exploits in Seth Effrika and find some more of the rather splendid pinot.
Salud!
While in denial mode, I'll also blame Mrs MLCM for wrecking my diet over Easter by giving me a big bag of utterly delicious, delectable, wonderful, superb, exquisite Turkish delight easter eggs. It's not my fault! Honestly!
Audacious April.
