Midsummer Night.
After that pretty dismal showing at the weekend, I’ve now managed 3 runs in 24 hours. It’s not an attempt to catch up – that’s not a strategy that seems to work. I just need to find some fitness again after a slothful few weeks. I’m finding it hard to shift the excess weight, and to feel really good about my running again. The only way I can think of to deal with this is to attack the problem head-on.
It’s still very warm, but at least it’s now possible to walk, and even run, the streets without that smothered feeling. The humidity has dispersed. It didn’t stop me having a terrible run last night, but it wasn’t general unfitness to blame this time, but bad preparation. My old adversary, foolish hydration strategy popped up again. For some reason I thought it wise to drink a pint of water before setting off. It didn’t, as I’d hoped, prevent me from overheating and keep thirst at bay. All it did was to make me feel bloated and clumsy. Having to stop to walk after a hundred yards should have been a clue. I still managed 4.3 miles but it was a long and slow slog, not helped by the decision to explore a new route along a footpath I noticed only recently. It turned out to be a bridleway alongside the ye quainte olde M4e motorwaye.
7:30 this morning, I was out again, this time for a much better, stronger and fresher run through the start of the frenetic village rush hour. Yes, I saw the postman and two people out walking dogs – all within 10 minutes of each other. This was a decent 3.5 mile run without any problems.
Then this evening I joined up with the local running group again, the Reading Joggers. I like this gang. All ages and abilities, helpful, friendly and welcoming. Hard to ask for much more. It’s interesting to compare these summer jaunts with those first few frozen weeks in January and February when the runs were always in the dark. Now, instead of tracksuits and woolly hats and gloves, it’s all singlets and lycra shorts and water bottles and panama hats.
OK, so I made up the bit about the panama hats. And the water bottles, come to that. Two people wore lycra. But there were at least several singlets in evidence, including the debut of a rather fetching royal blue number I picked up in a massive shopping mall in Rocquetas del Mar, where we went to meet up with Antonio again after the Almeria Half in January.
A good month to buy running vests…
