For the first time in what seems a long time, I managed a five-run week this week. Whoop whoop!!
My year to date has seen slim pickings on the running front as hip pain continues to affect my progress. However, I took the half term break as an opportunity to try and kick start my training as the hip/back shows slow signs of getting back to one piece.
On Monday, I was enjoying an easy run in the sun on the final stretch towards home when I got a phone call from Lyndsey. She had met with some NCT mummies and their girls for coffee earlier in the morning and it transpired that none of them could be bothered to go home and cook so would I like to join them? I was running past their location at the exact moment the phone rang so I stopped my watch and headed for the garden centre over the road to enjoy a jacket potato in the company of eight delightful ladies.
I had hoped to get to the track on Tuesday, but things conspired and actually my hip felt a bit twingey so I gave it a miss. Instead, on Wednesday I completed the brilliant Moneghetti speed session. I love the structure of this fartlek session created by the Aussie master of marathon running; even if I did go off with a little too much gusto in the first couple of reps and get left floundering a little at the end. I finished the session with a little bit of weightlifting as I helped push a broken down Jeep Renegade from its position in the middle of a busy road.
In the afternoon we headed to Wisley to see the butterflies in the glasshouse. This is a pretty spectacular event and we had tickets for mid afternoon but went soon after lunch. We got there as the heavens opened and decided to hold on in the car to let it pass. Delilah was asleep so we listened to the radio for 20 minutes or so. Once she woke, the rain had calmed but we decided to try and move the car a little closer to the entrance.
Click Click Click. Turning the key, all the car could muster was a flicker of the lights and a clicking noise. Oh bugger! The RAC were going to take a couple of hours, so we headed into the gardens. I got the phonecall shortly before we were heading into the glasshouse, so I had to return to the car to receive the joyful news that the battery had packed in and would cost a small fortune to replace. With little choice, I did what I had to do and reached into my wallet.
On Thursday, I managed to sneak out before lunch on a trail run up to the top of the hill in front of my house and back down again. It was muddy, but I took it easy and had a very pleasant time doing so.
Showered and changed, Lyndsey and I caught the train to the big smoke – it was concert time!!!!
Taking Back Sunday are, without doubt, my favourite band in the world. There are others that mean a lot to me, and arguably my favourite ever song is by another band, but Taking Back Sunday will always be number one. So on Thursday I was lucky enough to see them live for probably the eighth time (maybe ninth – I seem to have lost track). The support acts were, at best, passable. But the main act were something else (even if minor issues at the beginning meant Adam Lazarra was a bit hard to hear).
We stayed overnight at Gordon Ramsey’s gastropub/hotel in Camden which was perfectly pleasant – though I must say that I was glad I got a discount via my Fitness Rewards Vitality policy, as it certainly wasn’t all you’d expect from him. The bed was freakin’ huge though!
In the morning we went for a wander through Camden. It was not quite as I remember it through my rose-tinted spectacles of youth, but it was fun to reminisce about previous concerts I had attended in the area.
On Saturday, for the second Saturday in a row, I was able to get to parkrun; this is a rarity now that Lyndsey works most Saturdays in term time, and I am normally found watching Delilah’s ballet class instead. I made the wrong shoe choice, and the route up the hill in particular was tricky in the S-Lab Senses that I was wearing, but I managed a decent enough time before heading home.
Yesterday was a bit of a breakthrough for me though. Instead of eating lunch I decided to lace up my trainers and set off for a little run. My intention was to see how everything felt and if I could hit double figures that would be a bonus. In the end, everything felt pretty good, but I was starting to get hungry so at Bramley I decided to begin my journey home rather than tacking on the extra mile before turning. I don’t seem to have felt any significant repercussions yet, so maybe this is a sign that things are turning around a bit and training can get back on track. I only have six weeks until my first race of the year—the Paddock Wood Half Marathon—and I don’t think I’ll be setting the world on fire there but if I can PB (currently 1:46:20) then I’ll be happy to do that and maybe find another later in the year.
Is this the moment my faltering 2017 gets going?