Ok, so having had a fair few reasonably easy runs, today I messed up.
I was thinking about going yesterday – things were grey, overcast and generally pretty cool for an August day. But things got in the way, motorbikes needed riding and generally I couldn’t be arsed. Oh, and the pub interrupted things after seeing Richard in the late afternoon with his military vehicles at a show at the aerodrome.
So today was to be it. Only this morning, I felt decidedly average what with a head that despite breathing clearly felt as though it was full of cold and a body that, despite drinking loads of fluid, was feeling dry. So I went shopping instead.
The car thermometer was around 23-24 degrees, over my 21 degree self imposed heat limit for a long run (8 miles was planned), but come 3 o’clock, I felt the need to go.
So did. With Cathy as back up, riding alongside. As it turns out, like a drill sergeant. See, at 2.5 miles, a stitch that was mild at 1 mile became huge, so I stopped for a second. To a chorus of “get going you slacker, don’t stop!”. Well, I had to. Things immediately recovered, so I carried on. The next mile and a half was through more direct sunshine, but not too bad. And on the big, busy road, so I forced myself to plod on. Then, come the more minor road, the whole run turned into a run-walk type affair.
My glasses came off, any attempt at changing my outlook on things being given an airing, but there was simply no fuel in the tank for energetic ventures into proper running – every time I strung quarter of a mile together, the stitch was returning with a vengeance.
Not a disaster, guessing I have a bit of a cold or something and it’s hot, but not what the legs demanded – they were feeling strong and up for all sorts of mischief. Shame I couldn’t do them justice. And worst of all, the overall average of 8.31 minute miles doesn’t serve to remind me what a struggle it was.
So, put it behind me, chalk it up as one to remind me how to get through a hard run and move on. But in cooler weather next time, please.