It’s on evenings like this I realise I’m a total fool true marathoner. Despite the temperate and positively Spring-like last few days, this evening winter returned, just to keep us on our blistered toes. By the time I was ready to go, the wind was howling round the eaves of the house and the rain was beating on the windows. We were under siege. At another time I would have sat back, shut my eyes and enjoyed the dramatic sound effects but tonight I didn’t have that choice.
There followed a vigorous 5 minute warm-up on the static bike just to be sure my legs were still working. After Sunday I was taking nothing for granted. Damn, the legs were OK. I checked my toe again. This morning I’d performed complex surgery on a blister the size of a grapefruit. Perhaps I shouldn’t risk it. Annoyingly, it was looking much better. No excuses: let’s go.
Of course, I didn’t really consider not doing my 4 mile run. Thin end of the wedge and all that.
By the time I’d got my shoes and waterproof jacket on, the rain was easing off a bit. Still dribbling down steadily but I’ve had a lot worse during this programme. The wind was the killer. It was whipping round me the entire way, and felt like someone was running behind me, yanking my hood from side to side, trying to pull me over. There was a lot of leaves and twigs and other debris swirling round which didn’t help much. The only sensible choice was to try to enjoy it.
I never did quite manage to enjoy it, though I did create a cocoon of equanimity that at least allowed me to tolerate the conditions and to get through it.
I was a bit surprised that the Hound of the Baskervilles wasn’t on duty this evening. It was just his sort of weather. This is what I call the horribly massive canine machine that guards the farm next to the rding school. I run past it most days, and this beast loves to throw itself at the gate in a frenzy of loathing. This bastard wants to kill and eat me, there’s no two ways about it. It’s large and loud, and seems just an inch or two short of being able to get over the gate, which judders and creaks under its hateful weight. One day I fear it will get me. At least it made me feel better that, unlike some of us, he couldn’t hack a spot of wind and rain. Huh!
This week will be another high watermark in terms of miles. By Sunday I should have run 32 of the damn things. One great excitement this week will be the sports massage I’ve booked for Friday evening. I wasn’t sure if this would be more beneficial as a preparation for my long run, or as recovery from it. Only one good way to find out… I have a few components that need a bit of lubrication. Legs could do with a bit of loosening, and the very top of my spine gets very painful on longish runs. Anything over 5 miles in fact. It’s like a deep bruise when I touch it. Very sensitive. Something, I’m sure, to do with the heavy pavement-pounding that travels up my body. I need to get it sorted before the truly horrible distances arrive. Sunday in other words…
