Completely knackered, looking forward to an early night, frozen cold to the core, happy with my running, wondering how the hell I’ll get up for work tomorrow. That just about sums me up at the moment.
The table of doom on RunningFree consoles me that I’m a day ahead on target for 186 miles. Having had a small calf tear last year on my way to 156, I know I might need this in the bag but it’s nice to see it’s there. So far this year my biggest injury (aside from rampant hunger and dogged tiredness) was today as I leapt into a hedge/ditch to avoid two impatient cars, neither of which would slow down to avoid me on a narrow lane, incurring a pair of cut and thorn-embedded fingers which bled all run until I got home and could clean them up. I’m happy with that sort of mishap.
The same table also makes me feel inadequate, seeing all the proper runners around me putting in solid high mileage over the weekend as I trudge along around my 6 mile average, but I remain happy that today I felt more normal than for a while even if my ribs are still playing up. Must have been the beer last night.
A short outing on the bike to look at some donkeys and collect some veg from the farm shop eased my legs a touch, too, if at the expense of going waaaaay to slowly and freezing in the process. The wood burner’s on now and I’m still cold in my bones. Think I’ll climb inside it before too long.
Let’s see how inaccurate the weather forecasters have been next week. I’m anticipating a cold week of dullness, having been forecast everything from planet threatening white-outs to armageddon style frosts. In the good old days we simply had winters. Quite why I’m venturing outside in running kit is beyond me, though. But to warm up a bit, trail shoes on snowy lanes might be the way forward.
Spring will still be nicer though…the thought of standing in a t-shirt in the greenhouse potting on tomatoes while the soil dries around me and JB pesters to go and see lambs? I could almost be tempted to wish my life away.