JANUARY 2005 - Back in Action

[Sweder]

Time of day: 14:30 Hrs
Route: Lewes to Black Cap loop
Distance: 6 miles
Duration: untimed
Conditions: Sunny, dry, cold
Companions: Dogs + Tim and Simon

Hmm, this was an unplanned excursion and I'm not sure it was a wise one.
Fate played a hand as my truck suffered from electrical Vampirism on the school run - someone or something had sucked all the power from the battery and the blighter wouldn't start. I had jump leads, and Simon lives just around the corner, so I popped in on the offchance he was at home. He was.

Over a cuppa he told me he and Tim were getting (gently) back into running after various illnesses and may go up to Black Cap this afternoon. As it looked like I would be stranded at home I jumped at the chance for an easy lope with the hounds.

In retrospect I should have considered two things before agreeing.
1: I had a vigorous track workout last night and this, Wednesday, is a scheduled rest day for that very reason.
2: SP had given me a good talking to only yesterday about overdoing my training and suffering injuries/ burn-out before the big day.

But then, I am a bear of very little brain.
So off we set, at a very leisurely pace, loping up the Downs to Black Cap.
As we climbed in the crisp, cold air, me smiling to myself at the excellent value my new gloves provided, I started to get occasional complaints from one or two areas. Don't ask, but for some reason I had elected to wear shorts for the first time this year. It goes back to the discussion on Legs: to cover or not to cover, and the fact that on Sunday I'll be running a half marathon in +60 degrees - leggings will not be an option. So I wanted to get the pins out and try running sans lycra to see if my legs would fall apart. And now they were.

Shins started first: 'err - this is a rest day, Brain. Brain? Hello? Anyone there?'
I shut Brain off and continued. Next it was Heels, or Left Heel to be precise. Blessed with a tread style only slightly lighter than Diplodicus I hammer my heels. They bruise every time I go out, and even the X-Socks had not stopped the customary track-bashing last night.

'Oi! I thought you were supposed to be putting me up today. What's going on then? Where's me bowl of 'ot water followed by the arm of the sofa? I'm warnin' ya, this is gonna HURT big boy!' Abrasive little sod, my left heel. I hung up on him too, and plodded on.

At Black Cap Tim and I waited for Simon, drinking in the stunning views along the Sussex coast and inland to Kent and beyond. Tim announced he'd found a new route back that added a mile to the 5 mile round trip SP and I did last week. I should have pointed out this was supposed to be a recovery run for me and 2.5 up and down without deviation, hesitation or repition would do just fine. Instead I heard myself say 'Excellent! Sounds like fun.' There's no hope for me. None.

And off we went. Not that it was particularly taxing, you understand; a bit uphill and bit downhill, a couple of muddy fields. The dogs took the opportunity to dab some Oeu D'Vacca Merde behind their ears and along their flanks - all the better for sneaking up on the rabbits, so I believe - meaning that my first duty on arrival home would involve the bath (as planned) but not for me.

I am, it will be no surprise to anyone, knackered. Being the 'glass is half full' type I can see the bright side: no run tomorrow, and a light run on Friday morning before we head for Almeira, should leave me reasonably well rested for the half. Honest.