Another morning run so that we have this evening free to run round like headless chickens. Three miles, two runners (and a smile out of the grumpy runner! It’s only taken me three weeks to break him…) and a leaden sky threatening rain.
As of tomorrow, it’s Juneathon On Tour – I have no idea how well this will work as I struggle to maintain a decent charge in my iPhone while I’m in a proper house with electricity, let alone a tent.
Last night, as I faffed around trying to get Google maps to play nicely and show the complete distance of my canal running adventures, the clock ticked past midnight and I realised with dread that I would have to do an early run in the morning. Arse. We are still in the throes of preparation for our camping trip and I still have to deal with the logistical nightmare of running every day and trying to corral all of my kit (clean) so that I can stay on the Juneathon wagon while we’re away.
As such, the alarm went off at 5.30 and I was out of the door by 6.00 to run a leisurely 3 miles, only really spotting the multiple-collie dog man on the way. Not a great deal happened.
Back on the west side of the canal running today – this wasn’t on the official plan, but events conspired to make it a logistically viable plan. On Friday I ran and ate alone because Ginge went out for food and beers with work. Being the law-abiding souls that we are, he left his car at work and I did a 50 mile round trip through the wilds of Merseyside to retrieve him at the end of the night. A contributing factor to my poor sleep and reluctance to run on Saturday may have been the cement mixer-like snoring that I endured on Friday night, but I couldn’t possibly prove that. With Sunday came the prospect of another 50 mile round trip to collect Ginge’s car. After a bit of head scratching and map consultation, we decided that if I was going to drive that close to the Liverpool end of the canal, we might as well run a bit. Unfortunately, he actually had to do some work, so I sat around and did some work stuff and some knitting (it took me right back to being small and sitting around in hospital staff rooms waiting for my mum to finish being on-call. There was often watery vending machine hot chocolate and colouring-in in those days).
When he’d done what he had to do, we hopped into separate cars and did a convoluted there and back to the beginning and end of the canal route, dropping cars off as we went. Eventually we were assembled at Maghull train station and ready to set off from Bridge 11b.
Bridge 11B
First stop for a photo was Maghull cricket club, where some of the towpath benches face the ground so you can sit and do a sneaky bit of spectating.
Insert weak cricketing pun here
It was a bit warm today, but luckily there was a lot of shady greenery. This didn’t stop me complaining mind you.
Another lovely bridge
We spotted some Day of the Triffids style giant hogweed, which we steered well clear of. Giant hogweed was one of my more leftfield childhood fears.
Evil Giant Hogweed
There was a bit of a reminder that we’re in spitting distance of finishing the west side of the project…
So near!
…swing bridges both closed…
Closed swing bridge
and open…
Open swing bridge
…a field of sheep treading their own path of desire…
Sheep: clearly up to something
…and, two miles earlier than we expected (it makes up for my under-estimating last week), Bridge 21A.
Bridge 21A - welcome back to Lancashire
(but I actually had a double caramel Magnum)
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Miles run = 5.1 Canal miles completed = 5.1 Total canal miles = 72.1/127* Bridges = 11B – 21A |
Today I was faced with the most embarrassingly girly running dilemma because I had a hair cut booked at 12.15. Now, hair cuts and giving blood are my two immovable, inarguable excuses for not running afterwards. Blood donation because a nice nurse in uniform tells you not to do anything strenuous for the rest of the day (incidentally, I did nearly faint once after giving blood. I decided that it was an efficient plan to donate and then leg it across the county to get to the final fitting of my wedding dress. The dressmaker will be forever haunted by the sight of my meringue-clad form flat-out on her spare bed with my mother hoisting my legs in the air) and hair cuts because the hours afterwards are the only time I will look anywhere near groomed until my next appointment. I like to treasure that time.
However, despite my moaning about early morning runs, I am a bit more of a lark than an owl and swear that the morning is the best time to get things done. As we’re getting ourselves sorted for our imminent trip to the land of Jogblog (alright, a tent on a sheep farm in Kent), it made more sense to postpone the run until the evening – this is a dangerous game to play, especially during an Athon, as my desire to leave the house tends to wane as the day goes on.
It wasn’t that I procrastinated before tonight’s run, I stalled. Pure and simple stalling. I messed around, pulled faces and sulked at the back door until Ginge decided to ignore me. After a not too brilliant night’s sleep, I had retired to bed for a nap in the afternoon and just enjoyed lounging with my book for a bit. By this time it was nearly 7 o’clock, if it wasn’t for Juneathon I would probably still be in bed.
I was less than keen because I thought that my legs would be weary, but I bounded off as if we were still in the first week of Juneathon and did a perky three miles at 9.23min/mile. I’m really enjoying the fact that I’m having one of those spells where your running just seems to click into pace – even when I think I’m plodding, I ask Miles and he reassures me that I’m doing a pace that I would have thought of as quick a matter of weeks ago.
The saviour of my legs (I think) has been having a ‘rest day’ between runs – even though I’ve been running every day, mixing up my morning and evening runs has given me 36 and 24 hours between outings. I tell you what though, I can’t wait for a proper day off.
UPDATE: Ginge has just pointed out that Day 11 wasn’t showing up in the archive, but I’ve twiddled a few things and it is now. It’s a canal run that includes photos of a u-boat of all things and is a bit more interesting than yesterday’s effort.
My rearranged week continues – normally Friday is a morning run day so that come 5 o’clock I can drive home safe in the knowledge that the evening will mainly involve sitting. Last night I went out with my mate for some food, a couple of pints and a good catch up (it’s been an embarrassingly long time between meet ups). I only had four pints (or as I explained to Ginge “I had two pints of something. And two pints of…something else”) but that’s more than usual on a school night and I knew that a 5.30 alarm call would be out of the question.
I wanted a quick run (it’s Friday after all) and settled on doing an Audiofuel interval session. This has become a regular weekly fixture in my running schedule and I’m amazed at the improvement that I’m seeing week by week. The downside to tonight’s session is that it was an out and back route that took me past the chippy, the Indian, the Italian and both Chinese takeaways. Twice. I’m on my own for tea tonight and the temptation was great. Instead, I came home and cobbled something together with things from the back of the fridge.
Travelling Hopefully 