November

[Sweder]

Time to up the mileage a tad. Those comfy five milers are all well and good; some tougher than others. But with Almeria a clearly defined target I'll need to get up to 21K as soon as possible and that means adios to the well-worn sofa that is my local lope.

A gathering of familiar faces a-top Brighton marina this morning. Outriders Sam (Yoda) and (Lycra) Tony, MSilv, Gillybean and Cynthia, Dave and Paul plus a smattering of eager new faces. Some of the stalwarts were heading inland, but not I; the Wire was my modest target, a straightforward out-and-back 12K up-and-downer. I'd covered this track a couple of weeks ago when the wind had raged and smashed us about with mortal intent. Not so today; clearing skies, a gentle breeze, a mite chilly but mercifully none of that spikey, spiteful winter rain that infested the BHTT yesterday.

In all a decent effort, 12 kilometres in 69 minutes including a quick-ish finish. My legs are OK, knee appears to be fine but it's my lack of lungpower that's of most concern. I managed to run all the way to the top of the hill above Saltdean but I struggled horribly for breath at the summit, shuffling on whilst desperately trying to suck extra oxygen through my ears as a terrible rasping sound sawed from my open mouth. Hill reps and fartlek required to improve recovery times I fear.

Cockles warmed by a welcome return to the corner of my world that is Mac's cafe, joined by Cynthia, Barry (celebrating his five-times-rejected FLM place for 2009) and L-Tony for a cuppa and a fried egg sandwich. Glowing faces chatting excitedly over steaming mugs of something alleged to have originated from coffee beans on a cold winter Sunday; this is what I love about training runs.