Or, Day 15/30 – Goldilocks rules
A day’s training meant that it was never going to be an early one today. In fact, I was so stressy about the day that I dreamt vividly and woke up convinced that I had to go to Blackpool, rather than Liverpool today. I’d been looking forward to an evening run and had lots of exciting plans of where I could possibly go after work. Be careful what you wish for – I think I’d got so enthused with the concept that none of my routes lived up to the hype. Everywhere that Ginge suggested was wrong – that was too long, too short, too urban, too isolated (I don’t go through fields), too much like a morning run, too hilly, too scary as I had no idea what the hills would be like…. Eventually we settled on a sort of figure of 8 that I could add on to if I felt like it (ha).
I have lingering grumpiness and all of this took a good hour to sulk work through, by which time I’d nearly convinced myself that Juneathon was a pointless exercise because it’s inevitable that I will fail at it sooner or later, so I may as well stop now. Truly I am a sunshine-filled optimist at the moment.
When I did eventually set off, my garmin had a bit of a hissy fit and chose to ignore the first 0.2 miles – this did not help my mood, because we all know that if the garmin doesn’t record it, then it hasn’t happened… I was also too hot – when I’d left Merseyside, it was cloudy with a nice breeze, back home I’d neglected to consider the properties of the large shiny ball hanging there in the bright blue cloudless sky.
For a good portion of this run, my motivation was the thought that there were no shortcuts home so I might as well keep running, but after a while I was actually enjoying myself (sort of) and did 5 miles (plus the bit that my contraption ignored). I was also quite pleased that my average moving speed was 10.36min/mile, which for me is a decent plod, especially as I’d felt like I was running through custard.
Tomorrow, it’s back on the 5.45 alarm call for an easy early one. Hurrah!