I’ve never actually run with someone else apart from racing and that’s been what half a dozen times. But if someone wants to get fit by running through mist, rain and mud who am I to argue. And you know what I didn’t mind it. It was sort of a run/walk (uphills) but the odd thing is that she appears to have 2 paces – walk and flat out. And by flat out I mean 7 min/mile pace and less which was quite the shock to my usual 8 or 9 min paced legs.
It was essentially fartleks determined by the terrain. To be honest I needed to change a few things anyway as with the hill sprints in the week I don’t think just slamming in high mileages week after week is probably the most effective way to train so some hill & speedwork isn’t going to hurt (until I deck it somewhere)
But I always love it nonetheless. After a day of fairly nice weatehr by the time I got home from work it was getting dark and raining, sometimes hard rain sometimes just mizzle. The temptation was to stay in and pretend to stretch or something but sometimes you just got to get out of the door.
Up on the cliffs it was cold and wet and I still loved it. I said hi to all the sheep of course.
I did the 4 or 5 mile trip around to the barrows at Wick beach and headed back. Once again negotiating the haunted woods ™ by headtorch
So yeah its always worth getting out even if the weather says no the lesg say yeh!
And finally a big hello and hug for my mum who’s not been so well lately but hopefully on the road to recovery!
I know some of you out there – Yes you CeejayKay – Seem to love mist. I gotta admit it has a charm all of its own and every now and again its kinda nice to run in for a change …. but this is getting ridiculous!
So 7 miles and it felt pretty easy so I as doing some speedwork on the sand. I feel like its time to shift emphasis slightly from the base building plod to subtly improving. Slowly and steadily of course, Im so so so wary of my bodys limits these days
So I was looking forward to running after work yesterday, the sun had been out all day and it was likely to be a good tide to run. Until I got nearer home … Wick and the surrounds have their own microclimate and by the time I arrived home visibility was pretty dire.
The good news was that I covered 7 miles and felt fantastic all the way even after a full day on my feet running around like the proverbial blue arsed fly.
I was supposed to run the Hoka winter half at Margam Park on saturday. On friday I woke up to pai9n in my right foot – Not the foot thats supposed to hurt! It came from nowhere and I was worried it was the onset of plantar fascitis in my only non hurty body part. It ached for most of friday so sadly I made the decision that although I could probably run the half I would be doing myself no favours in trudging round it in pain. I took the sensible option and didnt even try. Meh. Still to be fair its a non technical run on gravel roads so barely trail at all so I wasnt missing much.
On sunday the pain was gone so I ventured out on a short test run to see how I fared. That was pretty much alk I saw due to fog but I suffered no more pain so we’ll have to chalk that one down to a mystery niggle (thankfully)
After four days off due to worries over the state of my legs it was time to go out on a slow test run. I’m glad to report that there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong apart from the usual slight foot pain on left and knee pain on right. I’m used to these two, I can live with them. The run was about clearing the worry of injury as much as anything which it did. However that was about the only clear thing today.
This route takes me past a spot where a friend died in a car crash a few years ago. He was a real lover of life and I always stop to say hello and remember that life’s short and can be taken at any time. We were talking about him not long ago and someone said that he was essentially uncoachable at rugby as he could only play utterly flat out, he would give everything possible for as long as he could and then would have to be taken off completely spent. Ultrarunning wouldn’t have been his game, patience and restraint was never his forte; but the way he approached sport was admirable. No matter the game or challenge he went headlong into it with utter conviction and gave everything. We live in a tight knit village and although we all miss him we can be grateful for having shared in his love for life.
I’m not sure why I’ve brought this up, I’ve stopped at the spot many times. Perhaps it’s only now I’m appreciating the lessons that his life and death have taught. Give everything you can while you can … but learn to see when the costs are simply too high.