All of what you’re about to read is based on my standards (not very high) – so if you do back to back marathons at an average of 3:30 then this will not seem very exciting.
I’ve been surfing the last marathon for well over 3 months now and my trip to west cork last week did nothing for my weekly mileage so I made the decision that if I don’t start cranking out decent weekly distances I’ll end up on the floor as a DNF for the next marathon.
With this playing in the back of my head I put in a reasonable set of runs from last Tuesday –
Then it was Friday night and me planning my weekend mileage – over the summer this was well below where it should have been – this planning is normally done over a protien/energy drink snack (beer and peanuts) while watching a bit of telly.
As I was deciding what to do I had one of those internal monologues that makes you realise that nobody will make you get up early, nobody will put on the running gear and nobody will do the miles for you. So, in a departure from character I hit the bet at the juvinile time of 10:00pm.
And was I glad.
After 8 hours of sleeping like a man covered in moss and wood lice (like a log for the slow learners) I was awake at 06:00hrs. Then, following a couple of espressos and a pint of water (and checking twitter, checking e-mail, putting on the gear, taking a piss, etc) I was out the door for a quick spin down to the Rochestown Inn (to park the car – more’s the pity) and 7.6 quality miles of running the hills around Rochestown, Monkstown and Raffeen. Fresh air, the countryside, cows, me, no cars and bright, bright crisp sunlight.
Then it was home to the loving arms of my caring family
(If you’re american and you’re reading this – that last sentance was sarcasim).
On Saturday afternoon we had a naming ceremony for my nephew who was back from London – they’ve called him Richard so he’s got a head start on all the pop-star named peers he’ll grow up with.
Yesterday was the scheduled LSR day and after the previous day of family fun (beer and wine fun) I decided to put the run off until after the family had had their dinner.
The run was only a 16 miler but after the first respectable week of running and a weekend of shoddy nutrition it was equavelnt toa 22 miler. Anyway, it went by with little or no mishaps (except for the wind – all from my ass).
At about mile 8 or 9 I was able to run along watching 4 or 5 bats skimming around my head catching flies in the twilight – something you don’t get to do while running in suburbia much.
about 45 miles at low speed and low HR. I’ll add speed later.