As predicted, some kind of barrier has been breached, and I can report that I’m almost back to my usual level of chronic unfitness. This morning I got out for another 3 city centre miles, but unlike previous days, I didn’t feel like a fish out of water. I didn’t feel much like a fish in water either, if I’m honest. Let’s settle for something amphibious, like a lobster. But one with a slight preference for land. Make it a dog. A rural dog. One that lives fairly near a big river, but not right next to it. About a quarter of a mile away. Perhaps a bit less. Anyway, from the start I felt stronger than I did the last few days. In running mode, I feel much less idiotic when I run than when I lose the habit. I don’t feel like a wacky tourist attraction. No, it wasn’t fast (when am I ever fast?), but it felt less slow than the last couple of weeks.
I ran down Vicar Lane, past the markets and the Corn Exchange, along past the back of the gargantuan Tetley’s Brewery. Thoughts turn inevitably to matters alcoholic. I’ve had an abstemious week. Nearly.
The big problem with Leeds is finding somewhere interesting and pleasant to run. I know and like Leeds, but good running is limited. If I had the time and the inclination to get into my car, I could find some great running environments within a few miles. Perhaps it’s what I’ll have to do. Perhaps I should run in the evening more. I spoke with an old friend last night who suggested that I drive up to Bolton Abbey and run along the river there. The idea has strong appeal. We used to visit Bolton Abbey (which is near Skipton, and has no connection with Bolton, Lancashire) when we lived up here. The abbey ruins are magnificent, as is the countryside and the river walks. It sounds like a plan, but it will have to be an evening plan.
Being full of renewed running enthusiasm, my thoughts turn to possible future races. Written in my thoughts in very thick pencil is the Dublin marathon on October 25. It’s 14 weeks next Monday. It could be done. I spent my lunchtime fashioning a spreadsheet to transport me from this morning’s 217 pounds to 189 pounds by October 25. That’s a target loss of 28 pounds, (or 12.6 kilos if you don’t speak English). Two stone, as we would say. An average of 1.87 pounds a week. Can it be done? Of course it can be done. By me? Ah, now that’s a different question…
