Mixed emotions

I’m wishing that I’d posted this earlier in the week after my Saturday run.

Saturday I decided to do a run that was psychologically ace for me – running in one direction, from my house to my mum’s (about 5 miles) and then a bit more to take my time up to one hour 20. It was psychologically ace because my unsuccessful attempts at running in the past have been from mum’s and I could barely manage two miles run-walking before I would give up. Running past my old one mile marker at 4 miles and then keeping going was a wonderful feeling! Apart from the first 20 minutes (much of which was uphill), and the last 5 minutes I felt really good and enjoyed myself. Highlight of the run were spotting another runner coming towards me, only to realise that he was actually speeding away from Bargain Booze with a litre of vodka in his hand – at 8.30 in the morning. I also enjoyed my randomly selected tunes that seemed to know exactly how I was feeling – 2 minutes to go, feeling like I wanted to give up any second  and what comes on but Jolene. Thank you Dolly.

I ended up running for an hour and 21 minutes, which was about 6.85 miles  – officially the longest that I have ever run. I say run, you know what I mean. I was spectacularly chuffed about it over the weekend. By Monday I had convinced myself that this was nothing to be proud of. On Tuesday I had a late start at work and took advantage with a 40 minute plod around the village. I thought that I was going at a decent pace, but when I checked the route and the time, I was pretty disappointed with myself. Work stress and headache left me feeling miserable yesterday and all of my automatic negative thoughts came rushing out – if I say that the glass wasn’t just half empty, it was half empty because I was hopeless and had spilled it everywhere.

Luckily, I had a better day today and was motivated enough to go to the long run group on my own. Did around 6 miles, probably setting off a bit too quick, but ending up in the middle of the group with quite a big gap ahead and behind of me. The upshot of this was that after we turned at the half way mark, there was no way I could catch up with people ahead of me and would be soon be passed by all the speedy Gonzaleses who were then behind me. I ended up at the back. Watching people become specks in the distance. Feeling like I did so many times in PE. I wasn’t a happy bunny and gave up a bit towards the end because I was so fed up.

All I can say is that I’m glad that didn’t happen yesterday – if it had, my trainers would be in the bin by now. As it is, I’m thinking sod it. If I want to feel rubbish about myself, I can manage perfectly well on my own thank you very much. So it’s me, my wonky knees and Dolly Parton from now on – hour and a half planned for Saturday.

Even clown cars have horns

Survived the long run group! And we weren’t at the back. Alright, so we were 4th and 5th from the back and that was mainly due to the very last 2 people being the group leaders who have to be there to make sure no one dies en route. 30 minutes out and back, 5.25 miles and a sodding valley (it is a valley I promise you).



See. A valley. There’s a river at the bottom and everything. This was spot on halfway round so although we had to do up the hill, we got an instant downhill before the uphill again.

And to make things even better, we were accompanied by a selection of ‘helpers’ who encouraged us on our way. Now, I pass a lot of runners while I’m out and about during the day, normally I just think “I’d be out running if I wasn’t at work” (this is a lie, I’d be watching Diagnosis Murder and eating toast). I have never, ever been tempted to beep my horn and gesticulate what I think was a ‘knees up’ gesture as one chap did tonight. I suspect that he’d done this at every small group of us he passed (we were quite spread out by then) so I couldn’t even feel special, in fact I felt a little cheap. Neither have I been tempted to just yell something quite random at passing runners. I really hope that the girls hadn’t thought too hard about what to yell tonight because all I heard was “yaaaaa yaaaa yaaaaa yaaaaa”. And I certainly haven’t beeped my horn at runners on a bridge over the motorway whilst driving on the motorway below. Usually I am concentrating on the whole driving concept. Ah well, it keeps them happy I suppose.

Just the two of us

Following Thursday night’s accidental agreeing to maybe doing a  half marathon, the ‘training’ has begun. We’ve done a 3.5 mile on Thursday, 5.8 on Saturday morning and 3.5 yesterday. Tomorrow we’re being terribly brave and going to the long run group (an hour’s run) and I’ve an early hour and 10-20 minute run planned on Saturday (before I go to Manchester and eat too much. Hmmm, I see a theme here…).

Running with someone else is a little bit odd for me at the moment. I’d just got into a lovely routine of early running and now I’m back to going out after work. Luckily Husband is very tolerant and can cook, otherwise we would both starve. It’s also a bit strange as our motivation levels are a bit different – I’m proper little Miss Keen Knickers (I got busted stopping the watch when we had to wait to cross roads/remove stones from shoes/decide which way to go… Well the only person you cheat is yourself. What’s happened to me?) and have noticed that I’m running a bit slower than I do on my own.

Having said that…

  • I think I’m doing better runs in the afternoon than stupid early on little/no food. They’re definitely longer
  • Running a bit slower is probably a good thing for our long runs
  • The company’s lovely
  • I’m going out when I would probably be sitting
  • We set out to do an hour and ended up adding on an extra 7 minutes (I would have rounded up to 10, but it’s better than nowt)

I think my answer is to chuck in a solo outing  just to remind myself that I can do it alone. Best of all in this, I found myself looking forward to running yesterday (admittedly I was in an audit workshop at the time, but still…)

I think I preferred Juneathon…

After a short post-Juneathon break, I’m back from my jollies full of vim and vigour. Also full of sausages, beer and cake. It’s a scientific fact that calories consumed outside contain far less than those consumed on the sofa – it’s the fresh air that does it. Sadly that may not be as evidence-based as I’d like it to be and I’ve returned home feeling like the side of a house, but by heck it was worth it. We’ve noodled in Greenwich, scoffed Nepalese in Hythe, wolfed down Malaysian in London and barbecued at our tent.

It wasn’t just gorgeous food mind you… I was plonked on a bike for the first time in three years (I’m not a natural cyclist, I failed my Cycling Proficiency when I was 10 and there’s been 20 years of trauma since. I was “still wobbly on my bike” since you ask) and did a 25 mile ride. This was on day one of having the bikes and I’m still trying to work out if it was a good idea. I have quite a well upholstered bottom, but there was some definite saddle soreness on the morning after. Part of me thinks that if we’d done a shorter ride on day one, I’d still have had an achey rump and would not have agreed to the longer trip, so it was worth it. I think.

Since our return, I’ve been out a couple of times. Tuesday in the rain with the running group and my pal the running bully, and tonight after work with the running bully again. She’s lost her rhythm a bit at the mo, so it’s my turn to do a bit of motivational bullying at the moment. I don’t mind doing this because I definitely owe her for all the support she gave me when I started, but I appear to have agreed to do a half marathon in October while I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve been assured that doubling my distance and not making an arse of myself is quite realistic in the time available (I’m somewhat doubtful, but I’m using all my saved up Juneathoness to gee me on), I’ve also checked the times from last year and the last person to cross the line took about 4 hours, so hopefully I wouldn’t come last.

As well as the half, I’ve been railroaded into a 5k with other members of my team at work. The strange thing is that I’m more worried about the 5k than the half (It’s the fear of possible embarassment, as they seem to be under the impression that I can run. The fools.).

So it looks like I’ll be doing some slightly more focused training over the next couple of months. It starts with an hour’s run on Saturday and who knows where it will go from there. Any advice/suggestions/tips would be gratefully received as I’m a bit clueless and proper training schedules scare me silly.