Take your pick from the three choices of post title, really. Since I was out for three times as long as normal, either one might do for any of the three associated blogs which will now not happen.
I was intent on going for a test of my leg. I’ve now firmly established that it hurts like hell whatever I do but different running styles hurt it in different ways, so the plan was to see if I could either find a solution or kill it entirely.
I’m disliking the urban running the dark evenings enforce to an increasing degree, so the weekend that should have been enjoyed partaking in the Grim challenge was a good target to do a similar mileage (possibly to torture myself that I could have done it after all, despite my worries) and a fine excuse to assault the back lanes and byways that formed such a significant part of my marathon training.
But assault was never really going to be the operative term.
I eased away from the house in as neutral a style as I could – into the stiff wind, slow was the operative term for progress and this was to remain throughout. My constant attention was on minimising pain and extending distance travelled.
The main road towards Bromley Green isn’t a route for the timid but without a huge detour and run extension, I had little option. Steady progress was fine, though. At least the risk of being run over reduced the worry about sloth or pain overcoming my brain.
The next few miles were workmanlike and uneventful. A steady pace was maintained with no more than 15 seconds splitting any of the mile durations. My focus was on very light foot impact speeds, keeping my body upright (I tend to lean forward and almost “fall over” while running, picking my legs up to drive forwards and maintain balance…maybe this is what’s causing injury. I’m looking into it) and the only cause for pace variation was a pikey Jack Russell, sprinting out of the owner’s caravan, through the open gate and catching up with me in about 25 yards. Yapping and being terrier style aggressive was amusing until it started getting hold of my trainers. Shouting at it had little effect – it let go and looked towards home for a second, but then resumed the chase. So I put in a small sprint to maintain the gap, all the while shouting “Go home” in an aggressive masterly (ahem!) voice. After about another 50 yards, it eased off, turned for home and left me to it.
Typically, after this, I put in a desperately slow split while assessing ache in the shin, before a new road gave a new attitude. Which coincided with seeing 6 miles turn over on the Garmin, so I decided to run at an easy (not forced slow and upright) pace for a half mile to see what the relative speed was when I could assess the stats. at home. The answer was a 7.58 half mile split, which is satisfying enough.
A final detour to a paper shop just short of 7 miles (which didn’t have the one I wanted) forced a trip to Tesco to get one before heading home to complete 8.18 miles with little increase in discomfort but a slow run under my belt and some confidence that a bit of sense won’t see me with a fracture to contend with (it can’t be fully gone yet…it’s still able to take my weight and run impact without forcing me off it, so it’s all good)by the end of the month if I play my cards right.
And the rest of the day has seen shed building and progress.
Not a bad run of results, I guess, even if I have missed Grim.
1938.37 miles to go.