Week 9: 27 Feb – 5 Mar

Day 54: Long run at marathon pace

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

I’d awaited this run since the training started; 20 miles at marathon pace. It’s such an important run – one that will give me a true feel for how I’ll perform on The Day – that I’ve scheduled three of them into the plan. However, with three aborted long runs lately that would have eased me into this distance, this would be a challenge…

I’d planned to run a half marathon from church to home, then one of my 10k routes; breaking it up would make it more manageable. Taking a cue from Spoon Kid, “do not try and bend the spoon, that is impossible… there is no spoon,“, rather than try to run 26.2 miles, I run two half marathons. And given how I’d been knocking it out the park with half marathons lately, I imagined a comfortable 13 miles, maintaining the pace for another 7, and – ambitious as I am – seeing how much juice I’d have left and running another 10k to achieve a sub-3 before race day.

The thing about imaginations though, is how perfect they are. Reality is much more messy!

The first 3 miles were tough, running headlong into wind (seriously, I don’t remember any of my previous training seasons this hampered this badly by weather!). I aimed to keep the pace steady rather than try to make it up; this would be on for over 2 hours and there was no sense burning myself out. Aside from a couple of instances of being held up by traffic (though during one of them, cars blocking the narrow road gave me a thumbs-up, which was nice), I’d kept to marathon pace and felt good.

Then came my greatest foe to contend with; Killer Hill allied with Gale Force and used their combined might to throw me back! I fought on, but their strength proved too much and reduced my pace by 50 seconds from target. As I reached the apex, a motorway bridge, I swear Gale Force tried to blow me off! I instinctively moved away from the edge, refusing to let it end like this (being comically blown off a bridge during a run; it’s what he would have wanted, I could imagine my wife saying…). Even as I reached the downhill, the wind kept the pressure up and I was unable to claw much time back. A fleeting thought wanted me to stop; no, I’m not that person any more.

Reaching the 13.1 mile point, it was disappointing that my time was 1:31. If I’m to achieve a sub-3, my half marathon time needs to be significantly lower than 90 minutes. BUT, I told myself, if I can get back to marathon pace, that would do it. My target in mind, I ploughed on.

My renewed vigour was met by the violent rigour of wind! I soldiered on throughout the first mile of the final 10k (only two park… no, stop saying that!), determined to have a strong finish. Fortunately as I turned a corner, the wind eased (no, it wasn’t on my side, no leaves blowing or anything!) and I was able to bring a couple of miles below marathon pace. A drop on my head gave me a mild panic. Please let that be bird droppings, I really could do without rain today. Thankfully, it was neither rain nor poo, and I maintained my pace.

And in typical fashion, the wind pushed against me with violence anew for two miles, destroying any chance of bringing the average down. Oh well, it was a good run anyway. Though the penultimate mile was just as tough, a determination to finish the 20 miles in 2 hours 20 mins gave me the adrenaline to have a fast final mile. Just in time; minutes later it was pouring it down!

Was it perfect? No. If I ran like that on race day, I’d have to finish with a sub-40 10k to achieve the goal. I’m not saying that’d be impossible… but yeah, it’d be impossible. Nonetheless, it was a 20-mile PB by 5 minutes, and considering the conditions, could have been worse. So you know what? It’s not what I’d imagined but the reality is, it was a successful run!

Strava data here.

Day 53: parkrun

Something old (my original parkrun course), something new (trainers!), something borrowed (mud from the course), something blue (the trainers again!)

The scent of freshly cut grass. The bounce of a new carpet. There’s something refreshing about experiencing something new yet familiar.

And there’s nothing quite like new trainers! I bought my last pair in June – 1200 miles ago – and so I was overdue. I went cheap last time – Asics GT-1000 4 (affectionally dubbed “Barry Allen”) – though I wanted the slightly pricier 2000 version. However, they worked out well, facilitating PBs despite a slight pinch on the foot’s arch. I finally bought a pair of the 2000 earlier this week (whom I’ve named “Wally West”), breaking them in at work and home, hoping they’ll be ready for a significant challenge next week. Today was their maiden voyage!

Expecting to try them at my usual parkrun, I discovered an old friend needed a ride to the parkrun I started out at, so I decided to help him out and do some tourism at the same time. Just one snafu; that parkrun is very much muddier! My newborn trainers would be put through a trial of mud on their first outing! 😥

Dodging puddles and bogs, I winced every time I felt a splash on the beauties. The pinch I’d had with the 1000s was thankfully gone, though a slight discomfort on the tied lace suggests I need to lace up differently. Replenished grip pushed me along on the brief tarmac path, and for once I kept stability on gravel. Just a shame my glistening trainers were covered in mud!

I’d intended to run it at about 8 min pace, but an unexpected easy burst of speed at the start with a strange inability to slow down meant I’d ran 7:20 overall! It felt as though I could have gone all day at that pace – no heavy breathing, even whistling down the final stretch – so thankfully I met my goal of no exertion.

Power of trainers or power of training?

Strava data here.

Day 52: 9 miles alternating pace

Expecting today’s run to be fairly straightforward, I decided to add in some difficulty to get the best out of the session. The best way, I figured, would be to do the faster miles uphill; but where to find a suitable mile-long hill nearby? Ah, of course; the infamous Birmingham half marathon hill (now finally removed from the course)!

Running up it repeatedly, I was reminded of the Birmingham half, and how I’d struggled with it over the years. It took me FIVE tries to finally achieve the sub-90 I amateurishly thought I’d get first time around! And even on my last try, half-marathon stamina was something I still struggled with; a fellow parkrun runner I regularly and comfortably beat over 5k (tooting horn; beep beep) has always beaten me over 13.1 miles (deflated horn; mwehhh….). With any luck, this round of training has helped me, to be tested this Sunday.

The first couple of reps went well (despite somehow getting lost on a straight road) and I just about managed the target marathon pace against a notable headwind.

Third rep was tough, not least of all because the pace was thrown off trying to cross a road (what is it with me and roads?!), and I resorted to swinging my arms violently for momentum up the hill (good job I didn’t do that during the Birmingham half, that would’ve been a sight for the spectators!)

Fourth and final rep, I was absolutely dying! I read an article yesterday that suggested repeating a mantra to help (until then, I’d only had Rolling Stones’ “Paint it black” playing in my head). But what mantra? Struggling to think straight with half a mile left, I resorted to the most memorable and repetitive thing I’d recently heard, from the Dr Strange movie:

Dormammu! I’ve come to bargain!

Dormammu! I’ve come to bargain!

Dormammu! I’ve come to bargain!

It seemed appropriate, as it felt like I wanted to bargain my way out of the torture!

The mantra working to distract me, I eventually made it up the hill. I gave a final a bit of welly to attempt to bring it under 7:00, but alas I somehow lost time despite that I knew I was going faster!

A good session overall; I can’t bargain my way to a better time, but I can work for it.

Strava data here.

Day 51: 7 miler

It’s the first mile that worries me most.

Will being caught in a crowd cause me to lose a minute or two from my pace straight away? Will I burn myself out trying to dodge other runners? Or will just find myself breathing heavy, struggling to reach the pace I’ve been training at? Such a start would be a death knell for the following 25.2 miles, a heartache I’d chastise myself over for 3 hours.

That feeling came at me today. Again, I’d been excited all day for my run (I would have gone at lunchtime, but Google said it was going to rain. What weather was it actually? Clear skies!), a marathon-pace effort I figured would be a walk in the park after yesterday’s great performance. And yet somehow I found myself barely maintaining the 6:45 pace from the start.

Yet weirdly, despite that it felt tougher than it should have been, my pace was fixed for the entire run (except for sprint-dodging cars 9 times!). Despite that I knew I was capable of better. Best I can figure, because I’d told myself that was the pace I was aiming to do, my body refused to budge from it.

Nonetheless, I completed the run as intended. Could I have carried on with it, 3 times over? Or would I have burned out? I guess, either way, it’s all in my head; running starts in the mind before it hits the legs.

Strava data here.

Day 50: Long run 8-miler

Work and weather. Two things outside of my control that can ruin a perfectly good run day!

Eager for my 18-miler runcommute all morning, I was disappointed when it practically started sleeting around lunchtime. I thus spent the rest of the workday glancing at the window, hoping it would stop in time. And just when I thought there’d be a chance I’d be able to do my long run home, a meeting dragged on past my finishing time.

3:30 now. I should be almost 5 miles through at this point… 3:45… I should be almost 7 miles at this point.

Meanwhile, the weather couldn’t make up its mind and kept stop-starting. Running late and with the chance of a downpour likely, I made the hard decision to forego my long run again. I considered just taking the bus back, but realised it’d take just as long to run home, with walking and waiting in the rain as well. So, you see, I had to run, I had no choice!

Still determined to get a good workout, I decided to test myself with a pace I’ve struggled with, my half marathon pace. I did surprisingly well, likely aided with downhills and wind support. However, I felt strong on flat terrain even when the wind was against me.

What didn’t help was the rain kicking in halfway through! Good job I didn’t go for my long run, I’d hate to be out in this, I thought, before recalling I was out in this! Yeah, pushing myself flat out made my brain a little fuzzy. Which is probably why I thought it’d be a good idea to change my route home when I spotted a potential shortcut; two minutes later I suddenly remembered why I’d had the sense to plan a different route; a killer hill!

I’m close to a 10k PB! Forget not exerting myself up a hill, try to achieve it! I foolishly thought. Argh! Forget it, just forget it! I thought, 10 seconds later… Nonetheless, I was doing well, and even managed to claw my pace back down from 7:20 to 6:33 within half a mile.

All in all, despite not getting to do my long run, I achieved an 8-mile PB of 51 minutes!

Strava data here.

Day 49: Recovery run

Urgh. Mondays. Turning my alarm off (but only oversleeping by 10 minutes thankfully), I prepared for a return to work after being off for two days and a weekend.

Morning meeting. Dozens of emails to read. Data to process. Having to make small talk with people first thing when I’m not evena wake yet. There was only one thing I was looking forward to: Midday, when I could go out for my run!

As soon as I stepped out (missing the rain, fortunately), that’s when I felt alive. The spring in my step! The fellow runners out! The wind blowing through my… err, stubble!

If I hadn’t run today, I suspect I may have felt more tired, and yesterday’s exertion would have become more prominent. But just being out, stretching my legs; man alive, it felt good. So much so, that even though part of me is hesitant about tomorrow’s 18-miler, most of me just can’t wait to be out there again (I even considered doing it today, but didn’t want to push my luck with two runs in one day!)

Back at work, how did I feel? Finally ready to start my week!

Oh, and I caught a Dragonite!

Strava data here.

Week 8: 20 – 26 Feb

Day 48: Long run Intervals

Today, I hit the halfway point of my training! My legs still aching from yesterday’s race, I decided to postpone today’s 18-miler for a couple of days for recovery and to fit into my week.

As a substitute I wound up running intervals up the same killer hill I ventured to last week (wow, that feels like ages ago!). There’s a Strava challenge that I signed up for, to accumulate 2000m of elevation throughout the month. The fact that I’ve only got 3 days left to complete it with significant boosts being last week’s hill reps and yesterday’s race showed how little I have hills in my training. That would change. Last time I did 8 reps. I’m further along in my training, I’ll do 10 reps today, I told myself.

Urgh. I should have slapped myself over the head. As I opened the car door, the wind was so strong it nearly ripped the door off! (slight hyperbole, but it was pretty violent…) Persisting nevertheless, I had a gentle jog up the hill as a warm up. Even that felt tough!

As I launched into the workout, any belief that I’d have an easier time quickly dissipated. Nearing the top of the hill, I chastised myself for randomly choosing 10 reps and seriously considered dropping it down to 8. No. I’m sick of giving up. I’d stick with 10, for better or worse.

I’d foolishly thought I could manage 6:00-6:15 p/mile pace, I was barely able to make 7:30, with some reps drifting over 8:00! However, I learned to use more of my body to propel myself; swinging arms, higher knees, launching from toes. Kind of like when Apollo Creed said of Rocky in Rocky III, “he’s going to stretch and use muscles he never knew he had.” This wasn’t supposed to be an easy jaunt, this was to be a workout.

An apt Bon Jovi lyric also served me well (“Livin’ on a Prayer”, the one with the famous chorus “we’re halfway there!”), “you live for the fight when that’s all that you got.” Remembering that I’m training for the London Marathon, imagining myself hurtling down the final stretch; that’s what’s I’m fighting for, and helped as a distraction when the pain got tough. Every hill, every mile, every step; it’s all for those 3 hours!

Strava data here.

Day 47: XC National Championships

Before…

Still not a fan of cross country, I nonetheless was kind of looking forward to this race. At my first county-level event, I was awstruck by the running clubs present, the calibre of runners, and was eager to be in that atmosphere again. I’d also watched “I am Bolt” last night, and so was also motivated by seeing what Usain Bolt do what comes naturally to him while also overcoming adversity.

Thinking there would only be about 200 runners like the XC a few weeks back, imagine my surprise when an email from England Athletics mentioned the event, and that there’d be over 8,000 runners!

*eep* Feeling like an ant amongst giants, I reminded myself to just do the best I could and not be concerned about not even cracking the top 50% of the leaderboard. Nonetheless, as I pinned the number to my club vest, I couldn’t help but feel a connection to every runner ever, having seen Farah and Bolt pin their numbers on just like every other runner.

And then the race. GO! Pretty packed in here. Don’t try to be a hero, just stick with the pack for now. The rest of my club are getting away! Ah man, am I going to be the last finisher of my club? That’d be embarrassing, particularly after the times I’ve ran lately. Okay, my main excuse will be that I’m not used to XC. Woops, someone tumbled. Should I help? Nah, he’s fine and knowing me I’d be a hindrance to everyone else. That’d be a headline: “Disaster at XC due to obstructive Good Samaritan.” Slight downhill, bit muddy but not too bad. Hey, there’s one of the other club runners. Try to catch up, but DO NOT SPRINT. Okay, catching up slowly. Just focus on him and… look at the size of that puddle! Oh no, I’m gonna have to go through it! Ew, ew, ew! It’s deep! My feet are cold! And these aren’t even my trainers! I’m only 0.7 miles in, I have another 7 to go with wet, dirty feet! Caught up to him now, catch my breath. Stick with him for a mile or so, then focus on the next guy. Huh, starting to break from him already. And there’s a downhill. Sweet! Ok, same again, catch up without sprinting. Tough to break through the crowd though. 

“Hey, are any of our club in front of us?”

“No, you’re in the lead.”

“We,” I correct him. Right before inadvertently leaving him behind as well.

I’m leading the club? There are eight of us, how did that happen? Nah, there has to be someone in front. And don’t try to be a hero, keep it steady. And now there’s a bog. Great. *splosh squelch squirch* Nearly lost a shoe there! Ok, sloppy terrain, stick to the firmer terrain at the edge. Man alive, look at that hill! No exertion, just keep it steady. Damn, this is tough. I’d walk if it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. Why isn’t the hill ending? Finally, a downhill! Breathe steady, catch your breath. Except I’m gasping like a fish on dry land. Oh no, is that a ditch? Forget going through that! Summon up strength, and… leapt over it! Superman would be proud!

Ok, quick check of my watch; only halfway?! What was I thinking?! This is a national event, and I’m just some schmuck that just started running! Why do people say “go hard or go home” like it’s a bad thing? I could be wrapped up warm, drinking coffee! Instead of, yep, here’s more mud! Bit of wind, use that guy as a windguard. Even better, you’re heading to the firm outer terrain. Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver. Ok, just one parkrun left. I’ve got to stop telling myself that, it’s getting annoying. And it’s the return of that oh-so-awful hill!

Up, up, up. Did I say that out loud? Stop talking to yourself! Come on, this is what you’ve trained under. There you go, you made it up the hill, the worst is behind you. Oh, my beloved downhill, I’ve missed you. Man, my abs are absolutely killing. Must be the constant effort of keeping my legs attached to my body while mud pits threaten to rip them away. Ok, just 0.3 miles left before there’s only 1.5 miles left. I can do this.

Man, it’s that ditch again. No energy for another Superman leap. Ew, right up my leg! Man up, emerge from this mud bath like Wolverine! Roar! Here comes the finishing lap exit. Try to take that one solid path through the mud… and, my foot’s gone straight through it. I don’t even care anymore. Oh what, another long hill?! What was that I was saying about the worst being behind me? Sweating like crazy, this headscarf is coming off. Shouldn’t have wiped my face, I just know I’ve got mud on it now! Ok, reached the top. Power on to the finish!

Oh, I have no energy. Just try to make it to the finish! Is that dirt in my mouth? Eh, whatever. That guy’s coming up pretty fast, shame I can’t… hey, where’s this energy coming from? Come on, you take him! Oh man, might have kicked too early, starting to… nope, someone else is coming, so I’ve got more power! Keep it going! Finished! No idea what position I’m in or if my time is good, but being the first finisher of my club will do!

Another from my club came in soon after, apparently he was gaining on me before I sprinted. The other club runners came in just a few minutes later, giving the opportunity to chat about the travail of the course (autocorrect just changed that to “curse.” Seems appropriate!).

…and after!

“Did you enjoy that, Shaun?”

“Err… ‘enjoy’ is relative.” But you know, I kind of did. I’m just not in the mood to go through it again!

Strava data here.

Day 46: Progression run

I watched “No Easy Mile” last night, a documentary about the British hero – and my doppelganger – Mo Farah and his journey to Rio 2016. In awe of his training regime and seeing his improvements after defeats, I was buzzing for today’s run.

So while the rest of the country was panicking and perturbed during the affectionally dubbed “Doris Day” (a gale-force storm that had blown in), there was me eager to go out! I don’t have access to all the fancy stuff Farah does, but a strong wind – for once – would be useful to provide resistance.

The plan said to run 8 miles, starting off from a jog and gradually speeding up until the last 2 miles were sub-7:00s. I’d planned to run it in 10-second decrements (8:00, 7:50, 7:40, etc) but as the last couple of miles would have to be 6:59 and 6:49, it kind of felt like it’d be cheating. So at the last minute I decided to go with 15 second decrements, which would put my last 3 miles under 7:00.

Doris was brutal to me from the start! Fortunately, my first two miles where she’d put me under pressure were only a jog, so I took it with a smile. I reminisced about the times when I first started running, where the pace which I now jogged at through a storm would be the best I could hope for on my best day! Despite almost getting knocked over by a car doing a random U-turn and also slow jogging at lights that took forever to change, my first 2 miles came in perfectly.

Partway through the third mile, Doris and I became friends and she pushed me along. I wouldn’t be lulled into false security though; I passed mutiple strewn branches, destroyed billboards and damaged road signs which evidenced her harsh nature. She could turn on me like that!

She began to swirl around me during the fifth mile, unsure whether to love me or hate me. Just cruising along, I began daydreaming of what the final 0.2 of the marathon would be like. Would it be like the crowd cheering for Farah in London 2012 as I finished successfully? Or would I have missed the target and I’d kick myself like he did in Beijing 2008? Back in the present, a glance at my watch said I was 3 seconds over target with only 0.03 of the mile left. An exerting sprint proved useless, and my record up to that point was tarnished. Grr!

Determined not to let it happen again, I monitored my pace more closely, even as I observed the devastation Doris had wrought, a felled tree on my path. Good job I didn’t come out earlier…

Despite an uphill during the penultimate mile, my pace had continued to stay on track. Last mile; 6:15, a parkrun pace. I burst into a sprint for that final mile. About a tenth of the way in, a thought rang clear in my head: This is a fast pace after 7 miles. It didn’t even occur to me I couldn’t do it! The first quarter came in at a blistering 6:03. Checking my watch again after what felt like 5 minutes, it showed the same pace but I’d only gone a further tenth of a mile! Keep pushing. Doris was furious with me, that harsh tempest. Bring it on, baby. The pace was going well, but I couldn’t afford to slow down; at that pace, it would have a much larger effect than my earlier miles and could easily rip me down to 6:30. Fortunately, I was feeling fine and kept it up! 6:09!

There weren’t any crowds chanting my name, but I had a great sense of accomplishment anyway. Here’s a clue to my next challenge that came through the post this week:

My next challenge…

I don’t know what will happen on the day, but I’m confident and looking forward to it!

Thanks for the workout, Doris!

Strava data here.

Day 45: Midweek long run

My legs are achy. I didn’t sleep much last night (thanks, baby daughter). I have a busy workday and evening.

Tough. You have to run. Oh, ok then.

Not going to lie, I was worried about this one. This would be the longest I’ve run at marathon pace and was thus a significant step in the training. The more mathematically-minded among you would have noticed that in order to achieve sub-3 I’d need to run at 6:52, but I’ve been training at 6:45.

Years ago when I first started trying for a sub-90 half marathon, I aimed for 6:52 pace but constantly came up short on race day. I’ve since learned to give myself a good buffer to better prepare me for the last stages of a race. If I was successful today, then I’d have a good chance of doing it again on race day and affording enough time to slow down a shade for the remaining 11 miles.

Zipping off, I was sorely disappointed that my first mile clocked in at a minute over target. A minute. A lifetime in the world of running. Err… that was a warm-up mile. Doesn’t count. I shrugged it off and decided – against the ideology of Shaun-from-three-weeks-ago – not to try to make it up by blitzing the next few miles and instead just run those at target pace. So imagine my surprise when I unintentionally kept running faster than target, and actually brought the average pace down to only 2 seconds over target!

The run felt good, perhaps because of rest and the training, perhaps because of a wind assist for the first half. Around 11 miles in, I came to my dreaded half-mile steady hill with the wind now against me. I put into practice a lesson recently learned; don’t exert yourself on the hills. Intending to only slow down to 7:00, I was annoyed that I was coming in at over 7:20. Don’t be an idiot, just keep it steady. Forcing myself not to burst into a sprint, I eventually reached the apex and casually brought the pace down to 7:10. Curious as to what effect that had on my overall average, I had only lost ONE second! A worthwhile sacrifice, as I felt confident in maintaining the pace for the remainder of the run.

I started to breathe heavyish around the 13 mile mark, but with a bit of concentration to lower my heart rate I controlled my body’s efforts and successfully had an overall average of my target pace. If this was marathon day, it would be enough to allow me to run the rest of the race at over 7:00 p/mile, a manageable feat!

NB: Strava had my first mile at 6:55, not 7:45. Good job I didn’t try to burn myself out unnecessarily!

Strava data here.

Day 44: Intervals

Whatever doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger!

Feeling as though I hadn’t run for a week (though it had only been 30 hours), I joined my fellow club runners for a track session; 800m sprints with 200m rest, 8 times. With a bit of a stiff wind and apprehension of my capability, I eased into my warm up.

There was a new guy there. Instantly I knew I had to destroy him.

As soon as I set off into the sprint, my legs felt so full of power! Though I was already at my 5k pace, I felt as though I could push it harder. Easy boy, save it for later. Go figure, I’m learning to hold myself back!

Nemesis-Newbie kept up, and all the group finished the first rep around the same time. Perhaps we were just testing the waters.

Leaving the pack behind, Nemesis-Newbie and I ran at the same pace in the second rep. He surprised me at the end with a sprint finish. Heh; newbie. You’ll pay for that later. Sizing up Nemesis-Newbie, I did the runner’s greeting by asking of his PBs; turned out they were very similar to mine. Yep, this would be a fun session!

Third and fourth reps were the same, though the finishes were tighter despite that I could have pushed harder for the final stretches. See? You’re paying for it already.

Fifth rep; game time! I left the pack behind, keeping an eye on the shadows to monitor how far back he was. Anyone else I’d be able to hear panting a mile off; his breathing was steady and quiet. He was about 5 seconds back. Keeping my pace steady, I let him exert himself and gain on me for a draw finish.

Sixth rep, same again but I went all out for the final 100m. Catching him by surprise, he suddenly burst into a sprint too. He faltered just before the finish line, allowing me a slight but sweet victory. I gave him a nod; the battle we’d waged in our heads was now physical!

Seventh rep, I was so far ahead of the pack I wondered if I’d done something wrong! No kidding, I had a strange sensation of me moving at normal speed while everyone else was in slow motion. Needless to say, I was so far ahead of Nemesis-Newbie – about 10 seconds – that I didn’t even need a sprint to beat him.

Final rep, give it everything I’ve got! Disappointingly the penultimate lap only came in just on target, but I more than made up for it afterwards, gaining time and a very comfortable lead.

Maybe it was the effect of the training, perhaps it was my pseudo-resting since Sunday. Regardless, I felt energised and excited for what the running week has in store. (what’s tomorrow… 15 miles?! Dammit!)

And Nemesis-Newbie? We shook hands, and congratualated each other on a well-run session. But I could see it in his eyes; the war has just begun…

Strava data here.

Day 43: Recovery run

If you want your life to change, change your life.

Chalking up yesterday’s failure to a combination of general exhaustion with being out at stupid o’clock in the morning, I wasn’t going to let it get me down. Nonetheless, I’ll make some life changes to ensure I get the best out of my training (little things like cutting down on bread and biscuits, walking up the 7 flights of stairs to my office’s desk instead of the elevator, etc).

I’m nearly halfway through my training, and though I now feel pretty confident about achieving under 3:05, the thought of being confident enough to achieve sub-3 with only just over a month of training left (the last month is largely tapering down) is just out of reach. So, time to up my game a bit.

But not with my run today! Today was just purely about stretching the legs, catching Pokémon, getting the heart rate slightly up – and you know what? – just enjoying being out! I hit one of my favorite routes, gave “the nod” to every runner I saw (with a 50% response rate, yay!) and checked I was back on form, ready for this week’s challenges. Which was my biggest change of all, listening to my body instead of running it ragged; one missed session won’t impact the training.

I will work smarter and harder.

Strava data here.

Week 7: 13-19 Feb

Day 42: Long run

Can’t win ’em all.

Coming off a high of a successful 18 miler and new half marathon PB, I had high hopes for today’s 20 miler. A fixture in all my marathon training cycles, they’re always the hardest one but are the best gauge of how I’ll perform on marathon day. However, it was a struggle from the get-go. 

*opens Book of Excuses* Weather (nope); traffic (nope); lost (nope); injury (hmm… maybe); fatigue (there we go).

I’m never at my best first thing in the morning; oftentimes I don’t properly function until around 11 am or so. But with a busy day ahead of me I faced the prospect of either starting out at 6am or 6pm. 6pm would have the better chance or success, but I didn’t like the thought of coming back after a party for a 2.5 hour run. So, ignoring the pleas of my body to sleep in, I laced up in the early morning.

The first mile wasn’t too bad, and the second pretty good. But a hill on the third mile which I’ve regularly tackled without difficulty absolutely drained me. With my energy continuing to hemorrhage at an exponential rate, I tried to decide on alternatives: press on? Shorter route, slower pace? How slow? Turn around now? 

Of their own volition, my legs kept trying to turn back home! No, at least make it to the McDonald’s (4 mile point) and then see about continuing. Struggling to make it even there, it wasn’t until about a minute after it happened that I discovered I had turned around and was already heading back!

Going along with the flow of my autonomous body, I jogged home, defeated. A leg felt severely achy anyway, so better to have found out then rather than 10 miles away. Perhaps I need a rest anyway, to return energised.

Strava data here.

Day 41: parkrun

I couldn’t work out how to run today’s race. As I have a steady 20 miler tomorrow, should I take it easy, or trust that 24 hours will be enough recovery time?

When I arrived and saw the competition for first wouldn’t be troublesome, I decided to go all out. Until I saw the one who could comfortably run it in sub-18 and has been first on over a dozen occasions! So no, no opportunity to be first so I figured I’d try half marathon pace due to my difficulty with it the other day (though the aforementioned runner kindly complemented me, observing I’d been “training like a beast!”)
As the runners sprinted off, there was a comfort with knowing I’d take it easier than usual and focused on catching Pokémon to help me restrain myself.

Nine runners ahead. I can live with tenth place. 

Dodging the same large puddle that was an annoyance a couple of weeks ago, I cheekily used the runner in front as a windguard. Hey, whatever it takes to get to the finish! 😜 However, I did also take the time to congratulate him on his first win last week. That’s the thing about racing: one moment we’re battling; the next we’re using one another; but there’s a camaraderie underneath it all.

While picking up a few Pokémon, I still felt fairly fresh despite going faster than my intended pace. Is it the course or the competition that makes me run faster?

With half a mile left, I (somehow) casually increased my pace, leaving behind one who’d stuck with me throughout (another thing about racing: we can be friends on the course, but we’d leave one another without a second thought!) and picked off another runner to finish fourth. I probably could have gained another place, but it wasn’t worth the over-exertion it would have cost, particularly as I’d ran today fairly well. Nonetheless, my last mile came in at 20 seconds faster than target, and I dare say I could have gone on for another two miles.

All in all, a good and enjoyable run. Now I just need to work out how to run that pace regularly without competition!

Strava data here.

Day 40: 6 miles at half marathon pace

The Wall.

Every runner faces it at one time or another. Me, I face it every time!

Sometimes it’ll be a small garden wall I can jump over before a light jog: I’m not in the mood for this. And what if I can’t even jog at a decent pace? Eh, may as well go anyway.

Other times it’ll be a Great Wall of China which I’ll crash into like Wile E. Coyote, having the sensation of having batteries ripped out of me: Forget this, I have no business being out here.

Today was a combination of walls of varying sizes. Having spent an hour and a half getting home via the bus (I could have ran it in half the time!) and my legs still exhausted from the night before, I really was in no mood to run. I’d faithfully ran the last 39 sessions without a second thought, but I had no inclination to go back out for a fast-paced session. Particularly one I’ve proved dreadful at each time.

Fighting with myself and eventually lacing up, I flew out like a shot, forgoing a mile-long warm-up, eager to get it over with. Fighting with the wind for the first mile, my poor time -20 seconds off target – and quickly growing exhaustion didn’t give me much incentive for staying out. Particularly as the heart rate only had me at 120bps, though it felt like 170. Inaccurate data was a good reason to turn back. But I had to ignore it and keep going, even though I knew I’d be slow for the rest of the run.

Chock-a-block traffic on a road I had to cross meant I had to improvise and change my route entirely, in order to not waste time or pace. The route I ended up with is one I’ve ran every week (sometimes multiple times) and was now tedious. And my pace was still off target.

My pace starting to improve thanks to a subtle downhill and wind behind me, I was able to catch a reprieve, my breath, and a few precious seconds. At this point, halfway through and 3 miles in, I didn’t see it possible to manage that distance at that pace, as bad as it was. I’d already thought about taking a slightly easier route, but as it would take me past my house and involve an out-and-back, it seemed like an option that would likely make me give up entirely.

As the fourth mile drew to a close, all I could think was I’m spent. I was exhausted and getting nowhere, despite only supposedly going a few seconds faster per mile than I’d managed the other day, when I’d covered more than double the distance overall. I’d give it my best shot for the fifth mile, but I would pack it in after that and jog the rest of the way.

And jog I did, once the fifth mile was over. Deep, asthmatic-like breaths said that I’d tried, but tonight wasn’t the night. A dying motivation whimpered in my mind, it’s not supposed to be an easy run anyway. I ignored it and continued to jog along, recovering my strength. 5 miles in 33 minutes. Not bad, though I should have been able to do better. But I’d made the right call. With my body screaming at me to stop, trying to do another mile wasn’t going to do me any good.

But neither was shuffling along, moping.

HERE WE GO AGAIN.

Like someone had flipped a switch on my back, I suddenly took off again! I’d jogged over a tenth of a mile at around 8:30 pace. No chance of getting it down to 6:30 now. Can I get it down to at least sub 7? With newfound power, chunks of time disappeared from my pace: 7:42; 7:22; 7:07. Come on, just a bit more… 6:52. Can I get it to marathon pace? 6:46. 6:45.

I need a one second buffer at least, or it might beep at 6:46 despite previously showing 6:45 (yeah, it does that, annoyingly). 6:45. 6:45. 2% of the mile left…. 6:45. 6:44! beep beep; 6:44.

Not a great run, but at least I managed to defy my instincts and keep pushing on, ripping down The Walls of Jericho. That was a much-needed lesson for when it gets tough on The Day, even moreso than running at fast pace.

Strava data here.

Day 39: Intervals

Running intervals sessions two days in a row?! Yeah, that’s the way things work out sometimes. Fortunately (or not, depending on how you look at it), my session yesterday didn’t take enough out of me. I should have been walking like a baby goat but instead was strolling like nothing had happened.

Fortunately (or unfortunately…) I’d already arranged a session with friends and so looked to make up for the shortcoming.

“How many reps are we doing?” I innocently asked.

“Eight.”

“Cool.” Is that all?

As my buddy took me on the route we’d run, something occured to me; this wasn’t a simple 200m hill that would ease off before the top. This was a UBER-LONG-MEGA-MAMMOTH-BEAST.

“This is kind of long…”

“Yeah, about a third of mile”

Zoiks. Over 500m of ever-increasing gradient.

“Ready, Shaun?”

“Let’s do it,” resisting my concern. It can’t be that bad, right?

In my typical manner, I’d started off too fast. About 10 seconds in when my buddy sailed past me, I knew I had no chance of maintaining the pace for another minute and a half. By the time I eventually reached the top, I was absolutely wheezing.

Usually it’s 40% through a session when I’m ready to give up. I was ready there and then. If he had said, “just kidding, let’s go get a drink,” I would have been satisfied with the run. But no, he kidded me not and off we went to die again.

I picked the first song that sprang to mind to help distract me for the next rep: Bohemian Rhapsody (yes, the hill was that long!).

Third rep I played it again, but also looked out for a grit bin on the way that signified about another 100m to go. Where is it…? Where is it…? I’m definitely moving, so why isn’t the scenery changing around me? Seriously, it felt like someone had just stuck a giant oil painting in my vision, the sensation of time stopping was that vivid.

For the next few reps I played Volbeat’s Cape of Our Hero, a decent motivating track that would help increase my pace and regulate my breathing. No such luck, my TomTom said I was slower than jogging pace! Jogging pace!

Every muscle in my legs burning, I couldn’t even run in a straight line anymore. I wanted to play Train’s Drive By in my head but my brain was starting to get fuzzy. Just keep up with him for the first bit, focus on him as a target, I thought at the start of the penultimate rep. Nope, he was gone after about 50m. Oh, and did I mention I was tripping over tree roots quite often? No? Well, I suppose that was the least of my worries. List of worries: legs falling off; heart exploding; lungs ejecting from my body; getting knocked over while running in the road; tripping over tree roots.

The last rep, I hoped for my magical kick that would propel me to the finish. Fail. While my buddy looked as fresh as when we’d set out, I felt seriously unfit and absolutely drained. I think in a delirious state I hugged a wet lamppost to cool me down.

See how happy everyone is after the cooldown? Mine is a fake smile; I would have been happy just to collapse (special shout-out to Thomas for the selfie!)

On the plus side, it’s a session I’d run again to bolster my training.

On the downside, it’s a session I’d run again to bolster my training… urgh.

Strava data here.

Day 38: Intervals

Two of my favorite lines from a couple of episodes in the Dragonball Z series:

Goku: “Now that I’ve experienced 100 times normal gravity, that’s what I have to train under!”

Vegeta: “If it was 500 times normal gravity, maybe you’d stand a chance. But 10? I don’t even feel it!”

Abandoning the track to spend Valentine’s Evening with my loved one, I took to the hills in the daytime to intensify my intervals session, providing the sensation of running in higher gravity. Specifically, a hill adjacent to the infamous “Birmingham Half Marathon hill” which has served me well in past training sessions.

This would be a tough one; 200m sprints up a sharp hill, twenty times. I kept the aforementioned Dragonball quotes in mind, knowing this training was for my own good; too many of my runs have been on relatively flat terrain, so I’m making a conscious effort to train in increased gravity.

Another conscious effort I made was to resist the urge to count down the reps; with twenty to do, I’d drive myself crazy (well, crazier) if that was on my mind the entire time!

So imagine my surprise when I figured I was well over halfway, and I’d only completed eight. Eight! A quick calculation told me it was 40% of the run; my typical “point of no regret”. Anything before that is fine, after that is when I question why I’m out running up and down a hill like a madman.

Playing Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love” to ignore the pain (hey, it is Valentine’s after all!), I indeed ended up counting down the reps (the lyrics “I’m foolish, I don’t do this“, “so crazy“, “my pride is the one to blame” being particularly poignant). Fortunately I quite enjoyed the session (even had time to make wonky Strava art afterwards), and know it will serve me well in times to come.

Then from exhausting myself whining and climbing, to chill out wining and dining.

So Crazy! In Love! (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh….)

Strava data here.

Day 37: Recovery run

After a XC race and my fastest half marathon to date, I was looking forward to a reprieve today of just a light jog. One small problem; I’d forgotten how to jog!

Bursting into my run while dodging pedestrians, I gave little thought to my pace until about half a mile in. My watch said I was at marathon pace, while I was supposed to be over a minute slower! And this was while I was playing Pokémon! It took a great deal of concentration to slow it down, and at that point it felt like I was practically walking.  (incidentally, I caught a Ponyta and Magikarp (amongst other ‘mon), both surprisingly rare for me)

Moving at a slower pace, it gave opportunity to reflect on my trepidation before every run and failed outings. Having trained for six days per week for six weeks straight, it’s hard to identify progress and there’s the odd worry that I’ll struggle with my target pace on marathon day, breathing heavily after the first mile (it still feels like yesterday when I first managed to consistently run at 7:00 p/mile for four miles). But after yesterday’s PB achievement (without gels, water or carbo loading, I might add; maybe they’re not as essential as magazines make out) and last week’s 18-mile PB, the effects of training are beginning to show.

But with the good effects of training, the bad are also starting to creep in; a bruise on one knee giving the odd niggle (not sure how it got there, it wasn’t from the tumble a few weeks back) and heel pain on the other foot (forcing me to run on my toes occasionally) (no, not like Fred Flintstone!). Who said running was healthy?

Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get some rest. In ten weeks. After over 500 more training miles (insert that “500 miles” song here!). Until then, every little (bit of training) helps!

Strava data here.

Week 6: 6 – 12 Feb

Day 36: Half marathon at marathon pace

This was the first of three key milestones in the training plan. If I failed at this, I’d have to consider re-evaluating my sub-3 goal. If I couldn’t achieve a sub-90 today, I’d question how easy it would be to do it on marathon day, twice in a row.

Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t in a mood to help me; with 14mph winds and cold in the air, I’d given serious consideration to postponing the run until tomorrow. Plus, I’d ran a XC race yesterday and was still feeling some of the effects.

But as I suited up, I reminded myself that I had to face down all my runs, regardless of my mentality. I’ve got a major goal to hit, and it’s not going to come by me sitting staring at the window. My demeanour dropped as I stepped out and the chill breezed down my neck. However, the weird thing about running is that no matter how you felt in the hours leading up to it, as soon as you start, it’s out of your mind and you concentrate on the path ahead.

The first 3 miles went well, aside from difficulties in crossing the road which threw off my pace slightly. Nonetheless, I’d come in well faster than target which I planned to save for a tough mile-hill around the 11-12 mile mark.

The second 3 miles were pretty tough, running directly against the wind and my heart rate was way up – it actually hit my max! Relax hands, untense shoulders, control breathing. Still couldn’t get it below sprint rate; I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer. Didn’t help that I had to stop at a road for a couple of seconds; from those two seconds halting my pace, I had to build back up and lost about 10 seconds for that mile. The safety net I’d built up earlier was vanishing.

Despite miles 7-9 not easing up, I was pleasantly surprised that I finished mile 9 just a few seconds over an hour. I can actually afford to do 7 minute miles now and finish with a respectable sub-90. I could even do 7:30 miles! However, it also occured to me that if I kept it up a little bit more, it would be one of – if not the – fastest 10 miles I’d done. Maintaining the pace could even give me a PB. Okay, just a bit more, then I get to take it easy on the hill.

Somehow managing to continue my target pace, I only lost about 4 seconds on the eleventh mile as it was on the hill. I lost about 30 on the twelfth mile as the hill kept going, but with some arm-thrusting to propel me along after the hill’s apex, I aimed to bring it down from 7:17 to 7:00. Then 6:50. Then target pace. Then another second just for cushioning. 6:44; boom!

Last mile, I started to feel it a bit. Play a song in your head that you know from start to finish – Any! “The good guys dress in black, remember that…” Eh, it’ll do. The distraction working, I achieved the second fastest mile of the run! As the watch beeped and I focused on running the last tenth of a mile to make it a full half marathon, the wind was against me. But I was armed with grit and adrenaline. Thundering against the element, I powered to the finish with a time of 1:27:30; a new PB by a minute, and averaged 5 seconds faster per mile than target!

More than merely satisfied with getting a decent time today, I now have a new confidence for race day. Let’s do this.

Strava data here.

Day 35: Almost-10k Cross country race

I’ve never been fond of the thought of cross country (XC). It’s muddy. It’s full of nature. The terrain is uneven, increasing the chance of injury. But, after much prompting from my running club, that overriding desire within me to meet a new challenge rose up!

It was the last of four league races, hosted by the Worcester running club Black Pear Joggers. I’d been trying to decide how to best pace it: a sub-40 pace? Half marathon pace? Take it easyish with marathon pace? After settling on half marathon pace, the guy I travelled there with shared his XC experience horror stories; ditches, slipping, water. That was enough to humble me down to marathon pace.

When I first started entering races, I’d meticulously plan every bend, every mile, every step. Today, rugged from years of experience, I hadn’t bothered to check out the course. Big mistake!

Within half a mile, there were a lot more sharp corners than I would’ve expected (hard to manage in mud), and tree branches. Oh, the tree branches. Threatening to gouge an eye out or rip my skin to shreds, self-preservation was on my mind more than finishing the race! There came a nice undulating downhill early on (which, again, I hadn’t expected), so like a frolicking mountain goat, I bounced down it at speed and gained quite a few places.

So, that was a downhill. So why was I so surprised to see an uphill not long afterwards? And not a short one either, one that just kept going! With zero traction as well, so I resembled a cartoon character running on the spot! One of my fellow club runners advised as he passed me, “don’t exert yourself on the hills.” He was right; my habit is to always blitz up a hill like I’m in first gear; I’d drained myself on only the first of three laps.

Yet for some reason, I wasn’t bothered about my pace. It may be because it was my first experience and I had no expectations, or the simple desire to focus on not slipping over and getting trampled on or breaking something. Either way, it took the pressure off and made it ever-so-slightly more enjoyable.

Overall, it was an interesting experience (but no, I haven’t discovered a new-found love of XC!) I placed 62nd out of perhaps 200 runners (I’ll update once results are officially in) at an average of 7:11 p/mile, and was fourth out of my club. With one more XC race in a couple of weeks, now I have a benchmark to aim against. Most of the difficulties came from lack of planning. As Scar said in Lion King; Be Prepared. That’ll teach me!

Strava data here.

Day 34: 4 miler

Today was a test run, in every sense of the phrase. I’ll be running a cross country race in two days, and as I a) haven’t run cross country since high school and b) have never worn cross country-suitable footwear before, now seemed like a good time to train for it!

As I’m an avowed cheapskate, there was no way I was splashing out on new trainers for the mere two races I’m doing this month, so I borrowed a friend’s trail trainers.

What a strange experience. You know that sticky walk you get when walking through a cinema or public toilets? It was like that. Plus they felt a shade heavier than my usual, throwing off my running style.

Deciding to try them out at a nearby football field, I was disheartened that it was all fenced off. Now, when I was lad, it was an expectation that some delinquents would have cut a hole in the fence, giving unfettered access to all.  Not today though; those goody two-shoes hadn’t vandalised it, so I had to make do with a bumpier grassy area. It better suited my training purposes to be honest, but was still disappointing.

After 7 comfortable marathon miles yesterday, I thought today would be a walk in the park (boom boom!). How wrong I was. Between heavier trainers, uneven slippy terrain and restrictive tights, it made for a gruelling challenge. As the first lap came in just under a mile, I ventured a bit further out and found a downhill. Dammit. Now that I’ve experienced it, I have to train with it.

The difficulty became evident in my lap times; aiming for 6:45, my third lap was about 7:10 with an inability to try to bring it down. My fourth lap started with a miserable 7:30 with my heart at sprint rate, and the hill just around the corner.

Sorry, heart. No relaxing yet.

Heart: “go on, my son! ‘ave at it! I ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

Pushing through, I made it up, even managing to bring the pace down to 7:07. Heart rate had even dropped by a couple of beats!

Heart: “I toldja, boy! Now crack on!”

Summoning up strength for the last quarter of the mile, I pulled the pace down to about 6:50. Not perfect, but it’d suffice.

Though I was literally running in another man’s shoes, it felt like it figuratively as well; accustomed to road running, I now had the experience of trail running. It was hard, new, exhausting, and illuminating. Which means I’ll have to do it again!

Strava data here.

Day 33: 7 miler

The main reason I was looking forward to today’s run was simply because it was short (by marathon training standards). My legs still achy after yesterday, it wasn’t until about 3 hours before the run I felt able to run it at my intended marathon pace, 6:45.

I was coming in at about 6:30ish, which ended up being the norm for the rest of the run; relatively comfortably going at that pace allowed me to ease back a bit to catch a quick breather each mile (I know, I should be running steadily. Old habits die hard!)

While the first half went fairly quietly along the canal, the second half was wrought with travail; contending with cars, it was a challenge to maintain my pace while crossing roads. One particular dual carriageway was particularly annoying; when I reached the crossing area, the road was too congested to navigate. No biggie, I’ll cross over later. Several glance-backs later, my patience wore thin. OK, going to have to chance it… n… now!

The first set of lanes I just about made. The second, I was forced to run on a razor-thin path tilted at an angle while a horde of cars zoomed toward me. It was at that point I noticed I was sweating despite the cold. Another sprint later, I made it to the other side. And it only took two near-death experiences!

One reason why the first half of the run went well was due to a long downhill at the start. But as the saying goes, what goes down, must come up (or something to that effect). The tough hill is coming up. Just power through it, worry about exertion later. Easier said than… no, I didn’t get to do it; my “power through” felt like I was running on the spot and I lost 15 seconds in just a fifth of a mile!

The apex reached and my legs burning, I somehow managed to get my pace back on track to 6:30ish. Then came the final challenge; traffic lights. Any chance I can make a quick dash across before I get there? I must have looked like a right psycho, glancing back at cars with a menacing growl, angry that my pace was being messed up by a mere 10 feet of road. Conceding defeat, I tapped the button and hopefully looked at the lights. No change. I ran in a loop for about 10 seconds. Now? Nope. I did another mini-lap. Still no change. You gotta be kidding me!

Up until that point, my average for the run was 6:40. Now it had ticked over to 6:41! Amber. Finally! I didn’t even cross at the lights at that point, I just mad-dashed where I was in a half-empty road. And kept dashing, determined to bring it back down to 6:40 with 30 seconds left.

Sprint! 6:41.

Power running! 6:41.

Giving it all I have! 6:41.

Come on, come on… 6:40! Beep beep beep.

A successful run; faster than target, and without getting squished by cars. Double bonus!

(then I nearly get knocked over by a taxi at a zebra crossing)

Strava data here.

Day 32: Intervals

One of the good things about running solo is that you’re only competing with yourself. Even if you struggle, your shortcomings are only noted by a watch and you can come up with any number of external reasons why a run didn’t go well; bad weather, too many pedestrians, wild meerkats in the way, etc. So when I had a running buddy ask to join in my my intervals session, there was weird mix of “yay! Someone to break up the boredom of running laps!” and “uh-oh; can’t use excuses for failure, or embarrass myself out there…”

Today’s session wouldn’t be as bad as previous weeks; 4 sets of 2km at 5k pace, when I’d grown accustomed to half-a-dozen to a dozen longish sprints. But with someone literally watching me and would be waiting at the end of each rep, I used my pride as a motivator to push myself.

Rep 1: Within the first tenth of the rep, I could see my buddy clearly holding himself back. Oh, Shaun; for shame. I did the heroic thing and told him to leave me behind, which he promptly did, leaving me to eat track dust. I came in just faster than target, and continued to be a hero by jogging slightly faster during my recovery jog to not keep him waiting.

Rep 2: Regretting not making the most of my recovery. One of my favorite bits from “Captain America: Winter Soldier” is the opening scene where Cap is lapping Falcon around the Washington monument, taunting him with “on your left!” I’ve cheekily done it myself to others I’ve ran with; not so much fun when it virtually happened to me. My watch beeped first, so I sprinted off. 200 metres later: thwump thwump thwump, as my buddy sailed past me. The shame!

Rep 3: Not even trying to keep up with my buddy anymore, there was another guy on the track who had been sprinting past me, which was acceptable as he was running shorter reps. I started to catch him during one of the laps, and I could sense he was trying to push ahead. Looking at my competitor, I saw I was at least 6 inches taller than he was. I have a superpower you don’t have! Long legs! Kicking out longer strides with wild abandon, I Usain-Bolted past him to achieve a comfortable lead. Boom. (mic drop)

Rep 4: Had I mentioned I’d been totally flagging since all the way back during Rep 2? No? Well, I was, and eager for the session to be over. This is the last one, this is the last one, I repeated over and over. My distracting song of choice: “Heroes” by David Bowie. 45 seconds left. 44… 43… ah, forget it; just run! Off target, but I’d managed to pull the average up a tad for the last rep.

“How you feeling, Shaun?”

Like a racoon is chewing my insides, my legs are trying to detach themselves and there’s a white flash in my eyes. “I’m just glad it was only 4 reps,” I quipped. Running solo; you tell lies to yourself. Running accompanied; you tell lies to others!

NB: Upon returning home and ticking off the run, I discovered I should have been running at 10k pace, not 5k! D’oh!

Strava data here.

Day 31: Recovery run

Walking like a cowboy thanks to yesterday’s long run, I was sorely tempted to give today’s gentle 5-miler a miss. It’s only a recovery run, right? But no, I needed to get the miles in so after oversleeping by an hour (again) I quickly packed my stuff and planned my lunch run.

There was a time when I would have even kept my recovery jogs to a set pace, but being older and wiser now, I listened to my body and didn’t exert myself at all. Just enough to stretch my legs and slightly raise my heart beat; of course, it pained me to see runners coming back the other way doing a 5:30-6:00ish pace.

I’m like you, don’t judge me by today’s jog! I imagined myself calling out, my pride wounded. I wonder if that’s what I look like when I run? I thought, before drifting off to thoughts of the cameras on me finishing at London Marathon and being interviewed afterwards. Hey, I gotta prepare, anything could happen on the day, right? :p

Little did I expect that something was going to happen today. My casual, wasn’t-going-to-think-much-about-it run turned sour when, upon returning to change back into my work clothes, I discovered I’d forgotten my towel. My spider-sense had buzzed when I hurriedly packed my clothes, and that was why. Grr.

Option 1: Don’t shower. Be remembered forever as Sweaty Shaun.

Option 2: Use my emergency balaclava as a towel. It’ll be ineffective and my shirt will expose water as though I’d been sweating. Be remembered forever as Sweaty Shaun.

Option 3: Use the changing room’s hairdryer. I’ll look like a right prat if anyone walked in while I’m using it. But at least I’d be dry and my colleagues would be none the wiser.

Feeling like Mr Bean, I opted for the bizzare. For the first time in over a decade, I used a hairdryer! Just like in running, sometimes you just have to put pride aside to accomplish a goal. Still, I was glad no-one walked in; I do have my limits…

Strava data here.