Monday and Tuesday I rested. Today I was up before seven to do a 4 miler though it didn’t quite go to plan. Last night I’d worked out a 2 mile route around the block which I planned to do twice. However the busy stretch of road that I’d chosen to form one of the long sides of the rectangle turned out to be horrendous: no pavement, bumpy grass verge, too close to the traffic roaring past. I still ran it – once – but decided not to attempt the second circuit. Instead I detoured up the canal again for a further 3 miles of total serenity. This evening I discovered some thought-provoking and rich prose on the subject of … …
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Did someone say something about running a marathon? The first phase of the house-move seems to be grinding past with reasonable success. The 3rd day of cleaning and scratching have at last taken us beyond the disgusting end of the chores: the bathrooms and kitchen. Now we are embracing the more genteel tasks of carpet cleaning and window-washing and… but just how interested are you in the minutiae of someone else’s domestic sanitation? Let’s move on. This morning I sampled my first Berkshire run. How nice to be somewhere else. The cool, rainswept jaunt took me along the picturesque Kennet and Avon canal for around 6 miles, to a spot past Aldermaston Wharf, where I turned and ran back. Towards … …
Well, the Engine Common Lane retrospective and the wistful burst of Tolkien turned out to be a little premature. This morning’s 4 mile run took place back near “the door where it began”, and indeed included a whopping double helping of Engine Common Lane. I couldn’t help blushing a bit as it consumed me yet again. No, nothing went wrong with the move. Actually it wasn’t really a move at all. Yesterday we completed the purchase of the new Runningcommentary Towers, and went over to collect the keys and to start hoovering up the dead flies and scraping other people’s lives from the walls. Our furniture is still in storage elsewhere, but we had intended on stopping overnight there. Except … …
As alluded to yesterday, tomorrow we move away from… wherever it is we live, so today’s lunchtime 8 miler had special resonance. It always comes as a surprise to me that running is so hard. I spend most of my time thinking that running is easy and pleasant, like taking a stroll, but then every time I actually do it I remember that it’s actually a bit of a struggle. After I get back home and have a bath and put on some clean clothes I feel so good and so relieved that I instantly forget that it was difficult and uncomfortable. The post-run me dupes the yet-to-run me. If it didn’t, I’d never get out of the door. Eight … …
Five miles this evening after work, while the sun was still out. Splendid weather, though the run was only reasonable. It must have been last night’s fish and chips weighing me down. Yes I know, I know, but it’s my only digression and it happens only every 2 or 3 weeks. Yes but… aw shaddup. We’re moving on Thursday. This current house in… wherever it is – Bristol? South Gloucestireshire? Avon? I never did work out where we live – will be kept on for a month but officially we’ll be residents of Berkshire after tomorrow. Which means that tomorrow’s run might be the last one I do in this neck of the woods. From here on it will be … …
And so, the fabled three-week taper begins. Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here. The encouraging daily emails I get from the Hal Higdon training programme say back-slapping things like "Don’t worry! The hard work is now behind you!" Well perhaps it is: apart from that last tiny detail like the 26.2 miles of the marathon in 20 days time… Yesterday was a big day: the longest long-run of the entire training programme. Not only was it a red-letter day but the strong Spring sunshine made it a red-neck and red-shoulders day, and the distance ensured it was a red-thigh day. It was also a pretty red-face day too (let me know when you tire of this weedy joke) as … …
I was too despondent to post a message last night as my run had gone so badly. The plan was 10 miles, but I started to droop after just a mile or two. I actually felt sleepy while running – that has to be a first for me. It set me wondering. You hear about people falling asleep at the wheel of a car. Has anyone ever fallen asleep while out running? Suddenly woken up in a bush or a ditch, and realised they’d dropped off a half mile back? I’d struggled on for another mile before I had to stop and walk. I never found any rhythm and instead of a 10 mile run it turned into a 5 … …
After a week of reluctant rest and that pantomime in Hampshire, today it was business as usual. Five miles at lunchtime round the familiar local lanes. Managed the whole thing at an average of 10.54 per mile. Good for me. Ached a bit. Four weeks to go till the big day. This week I am running 40 miles: the most I’ll be doing in this training programme. From next week the taper starts.… …
As the list seems to be the medium of the moment, here’s another brief one. More things I learnt today: the humble Ford Focus is well capable of speeds in excess of 115 miles per hour; in the interests of minimising stress of all kinds, get to the starting point of the race before it actually begins; do not underestimate the importance of adequate hydration and carbo-loading in the days leading up to the race; you can protect your feet with the right sort of plasters; don’t overdo breakfast; Yes, despite today’s race not starting till 12:15pm, and despite the lessons so painfully learnt just one week ago, I once again managed to be late for the big off. But … …
Well if John Lennon was allowed his famous ‘lost weekend’, why can’t I have my own, humbler version? All those great things that have happened between last October and today, and all those people I’ve got to know, and all that physiology stuff, and that spirit of tabula rasa… all seem suddenly remote and irrelevant and semi-forgotten. Monday I biked, Tuesday I ran, then nothing. It will be 4 days of nothing before Sunday’s race. Worse than 4 days of nothing. A frenzy of fatty food, wine, and no active preparation for Sunday; just the nursing of these red and black and sore and swollen toes. Can I get right for the half marathon in Fleet? I’m too far … …