Last week was a busy work week with travel up the country for meetings and conferences. the only good thing about this is that you get to have some family free running time (not that I don’t love them, but less guilt -y’know).
After the mid-week 10 miler (along the Connemara coast road between Furbo (sounds like a furry toy you’d step on in the morning) and Salthill in Galway) I was sitting in the taxi with my colleagues on the way for dinner.
I was getting the usual slagging about the running and one guy said to me –
‘You’d think you’d have more sense by now and give up this ould running lark’
I had (over the years) tried all the alternatives – explained the health benefits, the scenery, the OCD, the healthy eating, etc. so I wasn’t in the mood for a big long sales pitch that was going to fall on deaf ears anyway.
I jut came out with the following one liner:
‘It allows me to see parts of my soul that I have never seen before’
To my surprise to slagging ended there and then (and I felt like the Dali Lama’s Irish brother).
The running for last week was pretty consistent. I clocked 48 or 50 miles. I had to miss one run – a 4 mile recovery run- as the weather was cat and I was getting a bit of a throat. Other than that everything went fine.
Last night I went out for a 20 miler. I had been carb-loading the previous night with a gallon of beer (another blog post). I then got loads of rest (4 hours sleep) and had a restful Sunday minding my kids.
As I stood outside a petrol station after 15 miles in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, drinking a 5-sugar coffee whilst dunking a a mars bar in it I wondered what part of my soul I was now seeing –