Short and bitter. Can it get any colder? Janathon the cold.

If this year has done anything for my resolve, I hope it’s to make me determined not to sign up next year. At least not to running everyday. Maybe internal activities with the occasional venture outside if it’s suitably clement. The only problem is, that’s pretty much like the rest of my year.

I don’t think I can take much more coldness. Hopefully it’ll warm up tomorrow. I haven’t warmed up in the slightest all day. My site is in Hawkinge. 3 degrees colder than Folkestone below it, we still have 4 inches of snow covering everything while Folkestone (2 miles away) hasn’t a drop left. It didn’t warm above -2 degrees all day. Spending a day there is the most uninspired I’ve been in 25 years at work. I don’t think I’ll warm up all weekend, if I’m honest.

My runs today were horrible, unsatisfying affairs but at least I’ve maintained my 6 a day target. Legs are now throbbing, toes hurt with cold, two toenails have delaminated today (I guess in the cold) and I’ll see if they survive until things warm up along with my toes being bright crimson with broken capillaries. My foot still hurts but it’s again no worse. My heel is playing up worse again but I’ll try to sort that before bed. My knee seems to have eased right off. Or maybe it’s frozen.

Not a happy Janathoner but the last weekend of January last year was so much worse anything is an improvement.

Did someone say 6 days to go? Hoo fucking ray.

Shorter but longer? Could Janathon exist beyond science?

I awoke this morning with a painful foot. Which took so much of my early mental capacity that I wasn’t even thinking about my knee, heel, calf or anything much else. Just that Janathon was either to come to an early finish, was about to become more painful or else was to be the beneficiary of a miracle.

Over the course of breakfast I stretched it around a bit. While in the car (Radio Kent surprised me – the presenter asked for people to contact him with their favourite things about their town; Dover Castle, Kearsney Abbey, Cranbrook Windmill were cited as examples. I was impressed. They announced the appeal because of their noticing they were always downbeat. It was as though they’d read my grumble. Then they immediately went into an interview so downbeat I turned over to Radio 4 to listen to something less frustrating) I refreshed my love of cruise control as I massaged my foot whilst heading coastward at 67mph. While doing this I promised I’d try to be devious.

My last foot injury healed while doing my normal work. This site is smaller than that but I’m still doing an average of 6,000 steps a day (I love pedometers). If my feet will heal doing that, I reasoned, then maybe it’d be ok with a few short jogs thrown in to the mix over the course of the day.

When to go, I wondered. If I left it late I’d have more recovery time. But also less time to try and do a couple of jogs to increase mileage. If I went early I’d have time for more running but I might not be able to do any at all if proper pain stopped me moving (my gauge of pain being too bad is when I can no longer walk easily. Mile 25 of the London marathon having walked 16 miles after suffering a stress fracture at mile 11 is my ultimate definition. I’m not going to ever get that far again.) because I’d not left it long enough.

As things turned out, 10 o’clock tea came and went without being able to stop due to work commitments, 11 o’clock became the new 10 so I made a cup of tea and vowed I’d be back in time to drink it before it got cold.

I slipped out of my work hi-vis coat, my work fleece, my jumper and my work boots and changed into my running fleece (to cover my shirt and tie) and my trainers. And Garmin, of course.

I set off for Waterworks hill with no intention of getting there. I simply looped the top of the hills, ran along the nearest crest to site and turned around after 0.6 miles and headed back. No hills (I turned around before they get properly vertiginous), a gentle slope and a little used lane were my companions. And I felt ok. Not perfect – the foot was indeed grumbling a lot, but no worse than last night as I retired to bed. But good enough to let me think I could repeat the activity. And my tea was perfectly drinkable as I got into the office (no milk assisting the heat retention. I gave up milk at work about 10 years ago. It saves having to buy any on the way to the office as well as making it taste worse than at home thus making me look forward to home more. I live a sad life, it has been said.).

So after a late tea, lunch was also half an hour delayed. But before I stopped I again stripped, covered and changed before heading out on the same route. The early strides seemed if anything easier, so I extended the jog for another 0.1 of a mile (the hill becoming slopey but not steep still at this point). Upon return, this time I had 1.5 miles in the bag. Still little increase in discomfort.

3.30 saw another repeat. Another 1.5 miles this time. Same result.

And then work bit again and I didn’t get away from site until just before 6 so Mr. Cruise Control dictated slightly more mph on the way home to allow me to change from work shirt and tie to running top. But since I forgot to buy scones last night and fancied a stop in Tesco without stares at my stick legs in full running kit, I opted for Jeans. Decorating jeans complete with paint, mastic, glue, a stitch repair to the thigh where I cut them open on a fence a while back. And fleece top. I figured if I got there in one piece at least I’d fit in shopping. If I had to walk I’d look ok. While jogging I’d merely look like a thief. But at least I wouldn’t have to change when I got home.

So I set off for a 2 mile loop to the shop (itself less than half a mile away). Legs felt tired; foot felt sore but, I figured, no worse than in the morning. My pace was slow but in jeans, why wouldn’t it be so?

But it was another 2 miles run. And now I’m home with a throbbing but better than yesterday appendage.

So yes, 4 short runs. And a day total longer than yesterday. The biggest hiccup in many ways was leaving the Garmin recording cycling from my trip to the shop last night and having to edit the download to running activity. If that’s as bad as things get there might be hope for 186 yet.

As it is I’VE MATCHED LAST YEAR FOR JANATHON MILEAGE!!! Yay.

And yay again. Whatever tomorrow brings, it’s a new experience. As well as the Last Janathon Friday of 2013. And thank anything for that!

Jeans

Today, i’ve mostly been knackered.

A normal start meant leaving the house just after 6.30 which wasn’t nice, since someone had spent most of the night pouring sand into my eyes, then abrading them with a wire brush before adding copious quantities of shampoo, just to ensure opening them was a traumatic experience.

Oh, and it was raining. Just little drizzly particles, but enough to warrant a check of the rain gauge (11mm overnight) and the donning of my cycling jacket. I only wear it when i’m confident i’ll get wet. And by the huge hill I face each time I cycle at 3 miles, it was properly wet both from the rain that had intensified and my rapidly rising temperature. And with the wind against me, they aren’t 8 miles I wish to repeat in a hurry. My legs felt drained and tired and I wanted to walk. But didn’t.

And guess what? Yep, after 11 hours (aye, how lucky I was to have to work the lock-up shift. Lucky, lucky, lucky) it was raining again, all ready for my journey home. Proper rain. Hard, oh-my-god-that-stings rain that made the usual pleasure of freewheeling faster than my pedals engage down the hill a bit more of a lottery than usual, what with both eyes screwed shut and that. But I made it. Every pedal stroke reminding me that my legs were tired, just as every ascent of the stairs on site had over the course of the day.

But i’m a Juneathoner. Even if my running mileage is pathetic. So, after moaning how tired I was to my marvellous girlfriend, I attempted a few weights. But got as far a set of bench press reps before my eyes wanted to shut, what with the lying down and that, and gave up.

So I strolled downstairs, pulled on my trainers, set the Garmin and ran. Aiming for no more than a mile, I decided that jeans would be the running equipment of choice, despite Cathy saying i’d look like a burglar.

Every pace was more tired than the last, it wasn’t a fun mile, but as I turned around (the Garmin was back to the usual distance markers today) and a pace was found, I realised the jeans are a touch on the a) tight side and b) warm side for proper running. Still, 7.38 pace is fine by me for a knackered jaunt, even if I am seriously considering driving to work in the morning.

Guess i’ll leave it for the weatherman to decide. And if the car is used, it’ll at least be a pleasant 3.5 miles tomorrow.