That’s the number of runs I’ve had recently where I’ve actually felt like my old self. On Saturday morning we got up at the crack o’ sparrows for our weekly long run. We decided to ease off a bit and do a 15 miler, so as not to burn ourselves out.
It started twatting it down the moment we set foot on the Greenway and within half a mile we were soaking. Oh well at least any passers-by couldn’t see how bad my roots have got! We set off slow and steady and I feared I might have a bad run. Ok, my legs were a bit stiff and I was a bit mardy until we reached the half-way point but it got better. Bozza’s running Tourette’s was in full swing. It’s like the running equivalent of the Monica Seles grunt.
The rain stopped and we coasted back to the car having caught up with a lad who was running 26 miles with a pack on his back and wearing lots of unnecessary clothing (to aid weight loss?) in preparation for a 40 mile ultra-marathon. By this time my hair had dried out and I looked like a homeless person!
Last night we had 2k intervals which we decided we could do on the road rather than the track (always seems to make them longer to me). Now 2k (1.25 miles) doesn’t sound that far and it isn’t if you’re not running flat out! Man these were tough and I actually started to foam at the mouth like a rabid dog at the end of the first one! Because we were just running up and down the same road and it is on a slight incline it meant that we really felt the benefit of the downhill on the second (and last) intervals. We decided to hold a bit back on the penultimate one and go balls out on the last. Due to the sheer effort I put in I ended up with large amounts of snot flooding out of my nostrils and streaming down my face. Running’s not about glamour though is it?
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