My 24hrs of enforced rest last week was as a result of something called acute pharyngitis. It may well be as a result of ‘the ash cloud’ but I’m no expert and apart from having no appetite the 24 hours of sleep was welcomed. I was suffering from another acute condition as well: Suspicious looks from my wife – didn’t seem to be any cure for this one though.
I got a nice hill run in on Saturday but the pace was off due to the Friday illness and I had an elevated HR for the steepest hill section.
Yesterday was one of those days where my name was down to ride 3 horses in the same race but I only had the one ass. Looking back on it I am surprised I didn’t fall at the first fence.
The human alarm clock (2 year old son) woke me at about 06:00 yesterday morning. It was my turn to ‘mind’ him so I dragged my ass (and his) down to watch Dora/Max & Ruby/Ben & Holly/insert name of head wrecking kiddies programme. Lucky for me I can sleep anywhere so, unlike all the nutters who get out of bed at the crack of fast asleep o’clock for a run, I was back dreaming about what advice I could give Ryan Hall & Gebreselassie about the final kick in about 10 minutes.
My child minding techniques were not approved of by the commander-in-chief so I had to make busy with the breakfasts and the active child minding (as opposed to my ‘passive’ approach).
Then I had the side gate to paint – an easy 3 hours – except for the child minding associated with this. When I read the side of the paint pot is was missing the crucial bit of consumer advice: ‘not suitable for use while child minding’. Why do women think that any outdoor activity – grass cutting, painting, sweeping, washing the car, power tools – is a child minding opportunity?
After the painting I had to take a trip to the machine gun bunker to empty out the old part of the house (electrician, plumber on the way etc.) and had to hump boxes of junk from up-stairs to the car, from the car to my father-in-law’s house (up-a lane way on a hand truck) and then up his narrow stairs to a spare bedroom. This went on for 4 hours (40 boxes). As I want to stay married for a few more years you can infer from what I have not written about my views on humping junk for a hobby (needless to say, it was not my junk).
And then I got home for 19:00 and had the prospect of a 22 mile run in front of me. You might have noticed from the above that there was no mention of food during the day – that’s because apart from a doughnut and coffee and a lucozade, there was none –
I decided to crack on for the run anyway and to see how far I could go on mental strength and will power before I succumbed to being an idiot.
About 21 miles is the answer.
I was surprised I even got that far. I did have 2 energy drinks during the run but apart from a gradual fading of pace over the last 3 miles I didn’t fee too bad up until mile 18 or 19. I realised that as the pace was fading so much at mile 21 there was nothing in it for me physically or from a mental strength point of view so I strolled for a half mile and then I jogged the last half-mile home.
Like an OCD hand washer I had to tag on another 1/2 mile loop just to round it out to 22 miles. What must I have looked like jogging up-and-down the street outside my house looking at the Garmin at 11:30pm waiting for 22 miles to clock-up?
The only thing I realised from that run (something all Ultra people probably already know) is that you can go quite long on very little nutrition but your running form tends to suffer. I had about 8 miles of steep up-hill/down hill in that run and I was not really controlling my gait on the down hill sections. As a result of this I have pretty sore quads this morning.
Still, taper time is here. 3 weeks from today I will be all done.
Now, as long as the sun doesn’t shine I’ll be fine.