The distance, 6.17 miles, looks good, but it hides the truth. This was an uncomfortable jaunt along the canal towpath.
Here’s a tip for newbie runners: have everything ready for your run in one place. All your kit, plus any of those optional extras you might use: watch, HRM strap, charged-up iPod, headphones, cap, hi-viz vest, calf/knee strap, arm wallet, phone, gels, water bottle… and so on. It means that when you decide to run, you can go to one place, get changed and be out the door within minutes. I devised this excellent advice in the winter of 2001/02, when I started running regularly.
Tragically, I’ve never been able to persuade myself to adopt it.
Today was a classic example. It must have been about 2:30pm when I decided I should get out the door. And so began this extended circumnavigation of the house, collecting items here and there, usually after searching various other nooks first. After completing the first pass, I realised my iPod and GPS watch needed charging, so that added another half an hour. While charging the iPod I started musing over what music to play, producing a train of thought that didn’t stop moving until it had pulled up alongside the Platform MP3 at Amazon Station. And now the musing over what to buy started….
At about 5pm, I finally escaped the house, stepping into a cheerless, grey and sunless, blustery late afternoon. It was like a trailer for the coming months. If there’s a splash of sunshine about, late autumn can be an exhilarating season for the runner, but equally, it will contain more of these unadorned, combative days than any other time of year.
It all started well. I headed for the canal, stopping off briefly at a farm gate to talk to a man in a hat about buying some of his wood chippings. The towpath was almost empty. I passed two seated, motionless anglers, each staring balefully into the black waters of the Kennet and Avon. Then there was one awkward-looking middle-aged cyclist, balancing on his bike like an inverted, slowly pirouetting pyramid, and further on, a jack russell with no obvious owner. These were the only creatures I shared the opening 3 miles with.
I’d set off with no plan. As I plodded through the opening two miles, feeling surprisingly robust, I started to develop outlandish ideas, like going for the 7.5 mile loop around the farm tracks that I used for my pre-Boston tempo runs. Outrageously, I even briefly considered pushing for 10 miles, after receiving an email from the great Nigel, offering up his place on the 10 mile Great South Run in 3 weeks time.
But into the third mile, I was beginning to wonder where the next lungful of oxygen was coming from, and had to downsize rapidly my ambition. I stopped to walk for a minute, then ploughed, eventually reaching the gate, at 3 miles, where a decision was needed. It wasn’t hard. I turned round and started the fitful plod home. It was becoming harder. Despite recent efforts, which have started to bring noticeable improvements, I’m still vividly conscious that I’m deeply unfit, and carrying a serious excess of midriff lard.
In mile 4, I ran through a field whose path was now filled with stroppy looking cows. Mindful of recent press stories about stampeding cattle macerating ramblers, I gave them a wide berth. This meant lumbering through some very long grass on bumpy ground, which seemed suddenly to drain me of my meagre energy juice. After this, it became a weedy run-walk trudge most of the way home. Or until the last half mile at least. For some reason, the very end of a run can always produce a spark from somewhere.
It was good to remind myself how long 10K was. I have a couple of races coming up, and need to step up the preparation. The distance didn’t seem very long, but at the moment, my ability to run it comfortably is under question. I’m not too worried. The first 10K, Crawley, is still two weeks away, so I have time to drop a couple of kilos and get some more strength into my legs. But Crawley isn’t important: it’s just a fitness run, and all I’m aiming for is to complete the race in one piece.
More significant is the Brighton 10K, four weeks further on. Between now and then I reckon I can shed between 10 and 15 pounds. Along with six more weeks of this fairly intensive exercise, I reckon Brighton will be a watershed moment in my running revival, and will give me the confidence I need to plough on towards my sub-2 hour spring half marathon target.
