Here comes summer - the British 10K

[Sweder]

Distance: a tad over 4 miles
Terrain: offroad/ hilly
Time of day: 9pm
Conditions: Fabulous

Following my foolhardy outing on Sunday morning I elected to 'rest up' during the early part of this week. Finally, after a day trudging from meeting to meeting in central London, my shirt soaked, suit dampened with sweat, I'd had enough. I left home this monring at just after 6 am, returning a good 5 years older at just after 8.30 pm. Time to run.

I plugged in the headphones and tuned in to FiveLive at Wimbledon. 'Our' Greg (he's not now and never will be 'my' Greg) was manfully trading exocets with a Swedish gent (apparently ranked 11th). I know little about professional tennis (or any other sort of tennis really), as I'm sure SP will verify; however, I know that this particular brand of the sport is so very much like mid-season basketball; watch the start, catch the last 5 minutes, and do something worthwhile (like watching paint dry) in the three hours in between.

Rusedski seemed to realise that he was boring the pants of the nation, and contrived to stumble a la Tim. His heroic comeback fell flat as the unsportsmanlike, far superior Scando blasted him off the court. All the while (well, for half an hour or so) this 'drama' unfolded in my ears as I plodded sedately over the downs towards Black Cap.

'Get back on the horse' is as over-used a cliché as you could wish for, yet it was this thought that drove me out into the rapidly cooling evening. Legs heavy and lifeless, lungs most put out at the urgent demands for O2, I plodded on, covering just over 4 miles. Sulking whilst running is not a well-known sport, but tonight I gave it a darned good shot. I was crap - again - sluggish, heavy, slow . . . but in the last mile as I headed for home through the sheep fields above the town, I felt a hint of form return. My breathing eased to a light wheeze, the serious complaint in my knees and ankles faded to a polite murmur; I was taking in the (stunning) views (always a good sign).

So, a step (or two) back on the road to supreme fitness.
Or at least, in preparation for the British 10K.