The running is going great guns at the moment. All of this is relative so if you are a 100 mile/week ultra runner it will all sound very novice but if you are a 5 mile/week sofa warrior I’ll seem like an other-worldly figure.
I’ve just finished my biggest week for a long time with 6 runs over 7 days. There were 2×4 mile runs, one 12 miler, a 6 miler, a 7.6 mile set of hills and a 24 mile long run today. That gets me to about 58 miles when you add in all the 0.15 miles at the end of all the runs.
I’m particularly happy with the 24 miler today. I had a bit of a hiccup on the nutrition front at mile 15 when I had to stop for a mars bar and a 5 sugar coffee following a minor bonk but that said I was able to keep going and even negative split the 24 miles. Not bad as an inch of rain fell today so I got soaked from mile one and had a good chance to HTFU.
I did have a school boy mistake though. A damp running vest and 24 miles leads to what?……….. anyone?……. anyone?
that’s right, a pair of nips like they’ve been chewed by a terrier.
Anyway, they are the least of my problems.
I have an event next Saturday that make the Royal Wedding seem like a stroll in the park.
For anybody not au-fait with the ritual just think of the Royal Wedding……… only bigger.
I was blissfully ignorant of this event as my own one (1978) involved a beige polyester suit, a trip to the relatives for some money and plenty of tanora.
This song by Bell X1 sums up my communion (and eventual drift towards the bloodless coup)
Now, as they say, all’s changed.
It ‘s now a cross between Challenge Annika and Weddings by Franc. Everybody comes to your house!
Take last Friday and Saturday.
I had to paint the front of the house, mulch the hedge clippings, get the driveway levelled up (5 tonnes of crushed limestone), measure for rugs up stairs and take the carpet down to ‘Pat the Mat’ to be cut and edged into rugs, buy a trampoline, buy a suit, paint the stairs balustrades and bannister ( a job you’d only do if you liked being mean), clear out the front room, arrange to have the curtains hung in the front room and bedroom, collect and spread 2 tonnes of topsoil and………
do a bit of running.
And if you think any of this made even a dent in what needs to be done to keep ‘her’ happy you’d be dreaming.
Tomorrow I have another list of jobs to do including ordering 2 tonnes of sand (easy) and barrow it down the back of the house (not so easy), doing the same trick with 8 tonnes of driveway gravel and loads of minor jobs like re-painting the stairs and trying to make my back garden look less like Berlusconi‘s hair.
From the comfort of my sofa and at a low angle my back garden looks lush and fulsome – just like the thatch on Mr. Berlusconi’s crown.
But if you stand up and look down on it all becomes apparent – it is raggy, thin and patchy.I feel that the Bunga Bunga girls have the same thoughts as they look down at Silvio’s dodgy pate.
This might have something to do with the fact that the lawn is trying to grow on builder’s rubble.
So, to remedy this I barrowed the 2 tonnes of topsoil over the lawn (lawn is really pushing it in terms of a definition of it but my thesaurus is broken) and my wife insisted on the trampoline.
Now I want you to do some sums: what do you get if you take 10 children, add a white dress and loads of ‘good clothes’, multiply this by a trampoline to the power of sweets and divide all of this by 2 inches of mud (topsoil).
Any idea what that will produce?
I’ll have about 6 beers in me by the time I can tell you what the real answer is.
I’ll be doing less running next week (obviously).