Today was scheduled as another daylight run, but this time in the company of Ginge. We intended to do an 8ish mile loop with a bit of an explore thrown in, but after about a mile and a half we both realised that our hearts (and in my case, legs as well) weren’t really in it. Rather than do a there and back that I can run on my own, we looped back using footpaths along the railway (scary because they’re a bit lonely), managed a bit of exploring by taking a footpath along the golf course (scary because of my childhood fear of being shouted at by farmers or greenkeepers) and had the hilarious sight of me vaulting lumbering over a five-bar gate. It clocked in at 3.5 miles at a pace that I am trying to claim as a ‘recovery run’.

The golf course of terror

At home we applied ourselves to the serious business of cake. Because I am terribly organised (interpret that how you will), our Christmas cake remains naked and unadorned with either marzipan or icing and given that twelfth night has been and gone, it seems a little late to be bothering. Instead it has been reclassified as ‘nice fruitcake’ and is now missing a large slice.

The crumbs formerly known as Christmas Cake

However, in the spirit of being organised for Christmas 2012, we did try to plan ahead on the tree front while we were out running.

We'll take the third from the left

I am starting the second week of Janathon faced with a quandary. Before Janathon started, I did not intend to run every day. I had a vague plan in my head that I would run four days a week and use the other three to swim or go back to how I tackled Juneathon 2009 and use it as an opportunity to try new things. The difficulties that I have faced with this are:

1. I don’t really like new things
2. It’s January so everyone else will be trying new things
3. It takes longer and requires more organisation to do new things
4. Ultimately I am rubbish at most things that require balance, coordination or other people, which limits my choice of new things.

Needless to say, I have ended up running every day for the first eight days. Tomorrow though, I am doing something else. I’ve been doing yoga on a Wednesday for about three years but had a bit of a break before Christmas. My new class starts next week, but I have an unprecedented two (count them, two) cultural activities on Tuesday and Wednesday, meaning that, although my teacher has been very nice and let me go to a different class, I am now faced with an evening of Power Yoga.

This is undoubtably a Janathon activity. I know that I could go to the class, blog about it and my Janathon would remain intact. I also know that I could get up early and run, which would leave my run of daily Athon running (since June 2010) completely intact. I have absolutely no idea which way to turn, but have a horrible feeling that it will involve a 5:40 alarm call in the morning.

The random blog generator wasn’t spun last night, instead I followed a link from Tom Roper the librarian and visited The Running Librarian, but wasn’t able to comment on his dog owners v runners tally because I’m not a Blogger blogger (I did like it though).

Sometimes I resent giving up weekend time to go for a run, but it’s worth it just to run in actual daylight. Today this meant a three mile loop down the lodge and back up the big hill that I’m trying to conquer. I saw more people than I had all week (mostly dog walkers, mostly with improbably small dogs), I did lots of smiling and even became an unwitting part of a mad-eyed collie’s training who was firmly taught “sit” and “leave” as I scooted past. Whilst I didn’t conquer the hill, I ran further up it than last week before giving in to my burning lungs. Annoyingly though, my overall pace was slower than last week.

Like Jaws. With feathers.

Swans' bums. As promised on twitter.

It turns out that I’m not the only one who enjoys smiling at strangers. With her permission (and the promise of payment, possibly in the form of contraband baked goods) I’d like to share my only guest blogger’s view on the subject:

Incidentally re: grinning at passers-by while engaging in extreme sports and dangerous pastimes, I frequently try this while cycling.

I have now come to the conclusion that the usual grin back is due to the bizarreness of an elderly woman* wearing inappropriate clothing wobbling** on a bicycle.

I think you’re very brave venturing out when the rest of us a snuggled in thinking I wouldn’t send a dog out in this.

What dogs have done to be sent out I wonder, but it’s a lot harder to send a cat out.

 Love Mum xxx

 *she isn’t

**she doesn’t

I didn’t visit a random blog yesterday, but am doing two today – Ross is the first of them.

If I hadn’t run yesterday morning, I would have fallen of the Janathon wagon. By the time we got back from Ikea, I was felt tired and grotty, enough so to retire to bed at 9.45 and sleep until I really should have got up for work.  Oh, I didn’t entirely sleep through, I was woken up in the early hours by the bone-chilling howl of the wind (I have just been informed that an aluminium shed was blown across the village overnight*). Needless to say, I didn’t even consider a morning run today.

By 5 o’clock, I was finishing work and all I wanted to do was go home, eat my tea and be cosy. I texted Ginge. My side of the conversation went something like “Starving. Have run out of food. Do I HAVE to run tonight?” to which he replied with the suggestion that I just run a mile as fast as I can. It seemed a good as way as any to clock in for Janathon, have a slightly useful run and be finished in time for a brew and some scowling at crochet.

In the end it turned out that getting changed, getting Miles to find a signal and getting out of the door actually took longer than the run. I pootled round the block to wake my legs off and off I trotted. Running in the wind seems to have dislodged some gunk from the bottom of my lungs, which is probably a sign that I should put more effort in more often.  It took 08:54, which I’m pleased with (I rarely see 8s), but it did remind me of the pace that I’ve lost over the last few months.  Anyhow, Ginge’s latest suggestion is that I repeat it again at the end of Janathon, which isn’t a bad idea. I may keep him.

I didn’t manage to do my random number doodah yesterday, but I did read My Dodgy Feet whilst crammed into the back of the car with a substantial amount of flatpack.

*In reality, it may have only flown about 100 yards but that’s still further than a shed should travel independently.