A little swap around of cover in the gym means I now have my saturday morning's free.
If i can get my arse out of bed in time that is.
I'm really not a morning person. It takes a couple of hours and a pot of insanely strong coffee before I calm down and stop plotting the end of the world. Even our cats avoid me first thing.
After preparing for a early night on friday I decided to have a quick half hour on my xbox before bed. Totally engrossed, I lost track of time. It was gone two am when I finally dragged myself to bed. Balls!!!
Totaly addicted to this atm.
Saturday morning 6 30am
Im even grumpier than usual the only people who should be out of bed at this time on a sunday are teens on a walk of shame. On the plus side my achillies and calves are feeling much better.
The plan is to do the black park parkrun. Take it easy, not worry about pace and just do a recovery run. I really don't want to upset my legs anymore.
Unfortunately when I'm tired I get extra bitchy. So the ultra competitive bitch is starting to surface.
Whilst driving over I've decided to go for an easy pb.
I've ran black park parkrun once before; just after my bicep surgery about six months ago. I was in a sling and had to try my best not to swing my arms. It took just under 29 minutes. Even taking it easy and sesiable I should easily get a course pb.
We arrived with just enough time to have a last min pee (willie watch) and stretch. It was at this point I noticed the pacers. Stupid, stupid, bitchy, competitive nob! I started to get excited.
About a month ago I got a five K pb of 23 32. I was over the moon but felt as if I had a little more in me.
I found the 23 min guy and decided to stick to him like glue.
For the first mile I felt great. As always it was hard to get my breathing under control but I was already planning when I would pick up the pace and shave a few extra seconds. Moron!
Just after the first mile my right achillies started to get real stiff. It just would not move. I started to land heavier and heavier. It was not a nice feeling seeing the pacer and little entourage disappear. Next thing I realised the 24min pacer came past and disappeared too.
I managed to keep pace with the 25 min pacer until the last km. He was running with his young daughter, about 10!!!! I was killing myself not to be left behind.
She was laughing and giggling running with the flag. It was absolutely brilliant to see her having so much fun with her dad but watching them disappear crippled what little was left of my ego.
Beaten by a little girl is one thing, beaten by a little girl who's only having a little fun run was worse.
All of a sudden, behind me someone or thing was making some very weird sounds!
Thinking about what could be making such intense, painful sounds really helped distract from my achilles problem. Was it an elderly moose trying to have sex with a steam locomotion? possibly whilst suffering a heart attack??
It was a strange old guy dripping with sweat, spit and snot. Running with his head right back, mouth wide open grunting and groaning with every stride. As he went past I asked if he was alright. I was met with a extra grunt at which point I decided to slow down a little more. If he collapsed there was no way I was going to perform mouth to mouth on him.
The last five hundred meters was nothing more than a barely controlled hobble. Normally this is the part of a race I love the most. Chasing other runners in full on sprint mode. Today my competitive bitch was crying.
I limped passed the finish line 26.07. Feeling dramatic and sore; I could not get away quick enough. My legs were in bits and I really needed ice cream. Pretty much all of life's problems can be cured by icecream.... or a few beers.
And.... The shite excuses!!
About a month ago I changed my road and trail trainers. I upgraded to lighter shoes with a smaller drop. All of my running shoe's have a ten mil drop. I changed to saucony Peregrine's and Kinvara's. Both have a four mil drop and less cushion. I absolutely love them and set new pb's on all the shorter distances immediately. I should have kept the distance down until I was used to them. You live and learn.
Three weeks until the ladybowler marathon in the peek distract!!