My first offical week of marathon training. However I am still suffering some mystery virus, and no matter how good I feel, I can't run more than a couple of miles before collapsing in a gibbering heap. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to run out the door feeling 95% and return a few minutes later feeling like road kill. It's got to the point where I'm seriously considering two short runs per day as about the only means of getting even a modest amount of miles under the belt.
At least Andy will be impressed to know I went running tonight in a storm. Winter has returned with a vengeance here today, and tonight was like something out of an apocalyptic movie. I didn't finish work until after 10 p.m., and it was a case of not daring to stop and think about what I was doing, but to quickly get the running gear on and head out the door before commonsense took charge of things...
As I think I mentioned before, the streets lately have had ( probably without exaggeration) ten times the usual number of runners as people of all shapes and sizes attempt to get into some sort of fitness for the big annual charity run. However tonight on the way home I looked in vain for even a single runner crazy enough to be out in weather which is about as miserable as it possibly gets here in Adelaide. I did see one cyclist, but I fear he was a commuter, and he did not seem to be enjoying the ride.
Anyway I could feel the dread rising as I stumbled for the door, but pushed it down long enough to get out there and into the teeth of the storm. It was very cold; the wind was fierce and howling through the power lines in the spooky way they do, and the rain lashed down in what I thought was unnecessarily cruel fashion.
The only allowances I made for the conditions were to wear a cap to keep the rain off my glasses, and to run my usual route in reverse, so as to make the muddy sections uphill and therefore less dangerous.
I think I ran through my first ankle-deep puddle within ten metres of leaving my driveway, but Andy would be proud of me, for all it did was make me laugh. I think this is the first time I have been reduced to infantile delight whilst running. To be perfectly honest I absolutely loved it. I found rhythm almost immediately; I seemed impervious to the cold and wet, and for the really tough bits I actually had a tailwind! And so for the first two kilometres I was genuinely enjoying the run. In fact hugely so, and the prospect of running a decent distance looked good. But then dead legs, chest pains and immense fatigue quickly overtook me and I aborted, limping home breathless and angry.
Still, I'm made of sterner stuff than some stupid virus. I'll beat it yet.
For a while there however, I think I experienced something unique. It wasn't a runner's high, as I barely ran 3 kilometres; but the odd sensation of being out in extremely unfriendly weather, and basically doing it all alone gave me an odd kind of gratitude. It's almost like nature was playing a giant trick on us ... on the face of it, the weather seemed appalling, but mysteriously, if you actually embraced it and ran out there without any preconceived thoughts about how bad it was going to be, it was in fact immensely enjoyable.
Speaking of immensely enjoyable, I had the pleasure last weekend of staying in an incredibly peaceful house at an unbelievably quiet spot deep in the Adelaide hills. Here's a photo taken from the back door. The magic part is that those hills are full of running trails. I can't wait until I'm properly fit again.
6 Sep 04 - 12 Sep 04
