Today is the (nearly) the halfway point in Juneathon – aren’t we all doing well? Personally, I’m quite chuffed to be 4 miles ahead of where I was in Juneathon 2010. (EDIT: A quite frankly pissed JogBlog has just pointed out that the halfway point is tomorrow. It’s actually been two weeks, which is where my confusion came from. I am an idiot.
Ginge and I had planned a 6 mile loop after work, but the wheels quickly fell off that particular plan. I’d had a hectic day at work – lunch was 15 minutes in Tesco’s car park and the only time I spent at my desk was the odd 5 minutes to make phone calls between other stuff. I’m not complaining, I like to be busy, but it was non-stop and there was a definite lack of hydration throughout the day. I tried to redeem myself with two glasses of water at half four, though that was probably too little too late. The end result was that I was ill-prepared and knew tonight’s run was going to be hard. I say ‘knew’, in reality this might have been ‘made’.
Ginge was feeling tired too, so we re-routed at the 2 mile mark, followed his internal compass off-road and trootted off onto an unknown path into the woods. A bit of mud and some nervous scrambling later, we were down at the lodge, did a lap and then faced the long incline of my old nemesis hill. I’d been bit a bit stop-start throughout the run and, although I perked up during the pretend trail running, I found myself grinding to a halt as we reached the main road. Each step was heavier than the last, slowing me down as if I was wading through treacle. So I stopped. After a quick whinge, I reminded myself that if I ran home I would get my tea quicker, had a quick motivational kick up the arse from Ginge and tackled the hill on much fresher legs than I expected.
4 miles done. It was hard, but the worst thing was the nagging feeling that my head had made it even harder.