A surprise happened at work today. The manager who has decided he’ll get running fit (he does all sorts of martial arts and is a bit of a whippet/racing snake build already) has opted to train with his carpenter friend (they do all sorts of challenges together, so have form – last year they rowed the English Channel) but his friend has hurt his leg already (Monday was their first run!) so when he was bemoaning the hiccup he asked if I had my kit with me. I didn’t, but suggested he could come home with me (it’s en-route, after all) and we could plod around here to keep him fresh.
A little worried about the speed I go, I assured him it’d be at his pace and whatever distance he fancied. When asked I suggested I’d like 4 miles and he went for it.
So for the first time in ages I had a running mate and we set off, slowed a bit, picked things up again and settled into a steady 4 miles of sociable banter. Well, I did. He puffed a little more than I thought he would, but it was very good all round. Warmer, not yet raining, accompanied and easy. Very nice. If I ran with someone more often maybe I wouldn’t push so hard and end up blowing my legs to pieces all the time. I recall a slow club run last Janathon (the only time I’ve tried a club. Didn’t like it enough to carry on, clearly!) didn’t do me any harm. Why don’t I learn?! Because I like speed too much for the millions of runs I do alone, even though I’m not that fast in reality.
Ah, well. One day I’ll find sense and happiness.
Until then, 142 runs, 96 exercises and 47 cycles to go. Keep putting off the exercises, I’ll have a purge when I’m not in danger of falling asleep and I actually get something out of it!