Connemarathon here I come, the continuing story

[Katy.a]

Well, I may be leaner and fitter, but so is my bank balance – leaner by a country mile (but perhaps not so fit). The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weakening and I realise that to fulfill my ambition, I need all the help I can get (or afford). Have my local sports physio on speed dial to sort out my pinging leg muscles and spent a small fortune, but highly informative hour and a half, with a podiatrist. Fascinating - it's a wonder I can run at all. Beginning to feel like the bionic woman as I take to the roads with custom-made orthotics (orthothese?) featuring lifts, cushioning, bunion buffers and all kinds of clever widgets. I will never again expose my feet in high heels - farewell Christian Louboutin and Jimmy Choo (who am I kidding?).

Last weekend's long training run was something of an adventure: son and heir finds it relaxing to hurl himself down hillsides on his bike, but in order to do so he needs me to drive him to his chosen nemesis. On this occasion, the bike trail was in Penshurst. Drove son-and-heir there, and, clutching an os map, I set out to run from trackside to Tonbridge and back (about 20 miles-ish). By now it is something of an inevitability that I bump into the local pro-runner, skimming through the miles, leaving me sweating in his wake; but this week's encounter was a corker. Unbeknown to me, the Tunbridge half marathon was on and I was running part of the course - the wrong way around. Droves of super-fit beings swooshed around me... and I thought I was immune to humiliation. Having extracted self from the half-mara course I ploughed on to Tonbridge via Leigh and Hildenborough (very pretty) tottered around Tonbridge castle and sloshed through the rugby fields by the Eden at the hour-and-a-half mark before an about-turn and sloshing back. At this point, things were beginning to get interesting: til now I have done my distance-training cross-country and this was the first time I had run so far primarily on roads...feeling the burn didn't come near it. Just as I was considering the possibility of hailing a taxi, and/or walking, son-and-heir called on the mobile - he had come off his bike and thought he had broken his ribs. It's amazing what focusses the mind. I can't say I made it back in record time, but it sure kept me going. Thankfully I can report that son-and-heir wasn't too badly dented, but bruised and shaken up, as indeed were my feet.

Once home, the boy and I sat side by side clutching ice packs to our battered bits, while spouse fed us soup.

Only a month to go.....

xxk