The short month ends, and without wanting to tempt fate, or to sound smug, marathon training this time around seems to be going better than I expected, and certainly better than it went for Copenhagen last year or Chicago in 2002. I just feel more “up for it” than I did the lst couple of times. It makes a big difference.
While I was writing that last paragraph, “Seafront Plodder” just posted on the forum to say that he had decided to defer his London Marathon entry until next year. I started to reply, urging him to reconsider, but then abandoned the message. You know if you’re feeling right for a marathon or not. He’s complaining that he hasn’t rediscovered his appetite for the fight since the tough New York experience in November. If that’s SP’s judgement, it has to be respected.
I’m lucky enough to be feeling the opposite at present. My appetite for a marathon is strong and eager this winter. Why? For one thing, it’s a year since I went through the training. I’ve discharged the emotional stuff that both imprisons and liberates you. Yes of course that’s a paradox. The marathon is a paradox from the first step to the last – and don’t make the mistake of thinking that the finishing line is the last step. As SP has demonstrated, the marathon can continue for many months beyond the finish.
Mentally I feel good, but just as important, I seem to be in better physical shape than I have been for a long time. Yesterday morning when I noted my average weight for the week, I was thrilled to see that I am at my lowest weight for two years. This is a major psychological boost, but needless to say it simply helps me to run better. It was something I identified months ago as a key target. I’m still at least 20 pounds overweight. But two months ago I was 30 pounds overweight. It means I can run faster and for longer.
Despite all these positive notes, I have to report a blip at the weekend. 20 miles, I said I would do. I’m not even certain now why I said I’d do 20. It’s not in the schedule. It just seemed the natural progression of the weekend sequence which this year so far has been a healthy: 6, 9, 10, 12, 13, 15, 16, 18. At least, that might appear “healthy” but it breaks one of the staple rules of marathon training – take a step-back week once in a while. So his weekend, I tok a step-back weekend.
It wasn’t a deliberate, mulled-over decision. I got up on Saturday morning intending to run the 20. Then I just allowed myself to be sucked into the DIY vortex, and before I knew it I was digging oer the vegetable patch and then digging up and levelling a patch of ground ready to lay some slabs for the base of a shed. The task was godawful, but unusually for me, I almost enjoyed it. Perhaps I was feeling fitter.
As the afternoon drained away i knew I wouldn’t do the long run, but I did down tools at about 5 o’clock and shoot out for a rapid 7 miles which left me aching blissfully and in just the rigt mood for a few pints of Good Old Boy, a fine ale from West Berks Brewery, and a Chinese takeaway.
Sunday I had to continue my labours in the garden, and this time no run emerged. When the sun went down I retired to the kitchen to cook and to enjoy the first of several glasses of a decent Rioja I’d brought back from Almeria. Today was my scheduled rest day, and anyway I was too tired and hungover to run.
This evening I checked my figures and found something interesting. In January I ran an average of 3.677 miles per day. In February it was 3.678. One thousandth of a mile per day more. This was quite unintentional, but it does seem to point to a bit of consistency.
Tomorrow is the first of March, and I need to get the month off to a flying start.
