Take the day off..in fact take two

Sometimes you have those days where nothing is happening.

There is nothing in your legs.

Your head is telling you it’s silly to try, but your heart feels like you should give it a go anyway, just to be sure. It takes me a while to get going some days and I’ve had some brilliant runs that have started very badly, so for me it’s always worth pushing on in these circumstances.

My legs felt so tight they could snap at any moment. I had stopped to stretch them off a couple of times but nothing was helping. My head was fuzzy and I could happily have closed my eyes and curled up under the nearest bush for a long sleep.

I got 3.5 horrible hard miles into my 20 mile run on Sunday , decided this was utterly futile and so I turned round shortly after I passed the 10k tree and headed back home. I managed to run 1.5 miles on the way back, and then I gave up and walked the rest.

I felt rather silly walking along with my running pack on, but I carried on listening to my podcast and the time soon passed. I’m always amazed by how quickly I get cold when I’m walking in my running kit, and I was glad to get home and feel the warmth of my dog as he greeted me at the door.

Two days later, two whole days with no running, and the bounce has returned to my legs at last. I’m ready to run again and I only have a handful of short runs left to complete before I head out to Switzerland for what might just be my biggest running adventure yet – the Eiger Ultra Trail, the full distance E101 course.

Skye feels like it was years ago and yet only 5 ½ weeks have passed. I’ve still not finished my race report (sorry Jeff, it is coming honest) and I’m still processing everything that happened in those 22 hours and the days either side.

I think I’ve recovered at last and my blisters have all healed, although the skin is still dropping off my feet. This is something new and something slightly alarming – not painful, just a little strange.

I’m apprehensive, nervous, excited, a whole jumble of different emotions, but probably the biggest one is,

Have I underestimated what lies ahead?

As ever, there’s only one way to find out.

In between

I’m in an in-betweeny phase at the moment.

Normally I hate these phases, but things have been a bit unsettled lately and I’m enjoying the sense of just pausing in between Things and drawing breath.

The race on Skye has been and gone.

The race in Switzerland is on the not too distant horizon.

I’m recovering from a really bad phase/episode/bout (?) of asthma.

My blistered feet are healing.

I’m in the post Isle of Man TT slump.

My April gig has settled into my consciousness as a done deal, processed, successful, dealt with.

I’m thinking about moving house and a few things are in motion but I’m not pushing them because I’m interested to see what will reveal itself about the whole situation.

I’ve been going to bed at a vastly more sensible hour.

My energy levels are returning to normal and I can breathe clearly and easily.

The last couple of months have absolutely battered me and so I am gathering strength for the next phase, and I’m super conscious of the need to protect my health and my spirit at all costs.

I keep saying this after every time I’m ill, but this time there has been a breakthrough.

I’ve reached the point where I am bored with it, and that usually means that change will follow.

Daydreaming

An older house near some water. Ideally by a quiet beach, with some hills or even mountains nearby.

Pets. A dog for taking out in the hills and a dog for curling up on the sofa with afterwards. I love the idea of having a cat but the truth is, I’m not really a cat person and I would like to keep greyhounds.

A room with a view, for writing, for playing, for sitting and reading. With full bookshelves and pictures on the wall. Not too tidy.

A kitchen with a table in. With space to bake and lay out a recipe book. And with a sofa, and a TV.  I like to have the telly on while I cook. The kitchen needs to be tidy.

A space for friends to stay when they want or need to.

A garage, or a decent shed or a barn. With a sink and a worktop, and power and shelves and cupboards.

(A small house and a big garage would be the ideal way around)

Outside space. Not too much to maintain, but somewhere to sit with an early evening drink watching the bats on the better weather days, or to stand with a morning brew and listen to the birds. Honeysuckle in summer. A fuchsia bush. Maybe hanging baskets. Maybe part of a farm, with horses and sheep and goats and cows nearby.

Arms to come home to. A voice that doesn’t scold when tears flow. A piece of paper and a house party to celebrate, maybe a pretty dress, maybe jeans and wellies. No diamond ring.

A pub nearby. Or somewhere that people gather to share food and drinks and music and stories.

A station nearby. Or some connection to the outside world that doesn’t require a car at least.

Interval Alley **

Rep 1 I set off at a pace I know I cannot sustain over 8 reps. Am I going hard enough? I am pumping my arms, lengthening my stride, breathing hard. So hard. How do I know if I can do more?

Keep going, keep breathing in rhythm, don’t look at your phone, just wait for the beeps.

Is that a beep? Oh, yes it is, wait, there’s another one. Thank fuck.

Recovery 1 Walk a little, try to run slowly. Keep breathing hard.

 

Rep 2 Can I do this? For 7 more reps?

Keep going, keep breathing in rhythm, don’t look at your phone, just wait for the beeps.

Trust that they will come.

Count to 20 over and over. Am I going hard enough?

And there it is. My lungs feel like they are going to burst out of my chest through the back of my throat. It’s going to be horrible.

Yes, you are going hard enough.

Recovery 2 Walk a little, try to run slowly. Keep breathing hard. Look at the stars and the lights and the hills.

 

Rep 3 I think I’m going to be sick. I actually might be sick right here. There’s someone coming. Oh arse. I’m going to be sick everywhere and someone’s going to see and ask if I’m alright and what I’m doing and why.
Trying to get faster.

Just to see what it’s like and if I can do it and for how long.

Back off a little, keep going, don’t look at your phone, just wait for the beeps.

Recovery 3 Walk a little, look at the stars and the lights and the hills.

 

Rep 4,5,6,7
Don’t look at your phone, just wait for the beeps.

Lungs need to slow down, fine but keep going, just keep trying to lift your legs a bit and keep using your arms.

Shoulders back and down. Where are your elbows, your neck, your arms, your fingers, your head, your pelvis. God this is like harp practice.

But instead of thinking about the position of every single bit of your body to avoid injury and make a great sound, this is about something different.

This is about learning to go faster. PRACTISING going faster (thank you awesome coach last year who put it into musical terms and helped me get it)

This is about learning to explore, and learning to trust that your body can do it if you let your mind just try.

Rep 8 is barely faster than my normal slow run.

Finally, there are the last beeps.

I’m back in proper training and it feels good.

 
My legs are wrecked. They’ve never felt like this before, I’ve never tried quite so hard before. The slow plod back to the house feels weird, my legs feel like jelly and lead all at the same time. The short slope back to the main road that I always run up even at the end of the longest run feels like a mountain.

It’s over.

Until next week.

It is next week now.

Tonight, interval alley awaits. It will probably be raining or snowing. But I quite like it like that.

** Interval Alley isn’t really an alley. It’s a section of path near my house, but it’s quite enclosed by trees and hedges and is often dark when I tend to go, so feels a bit like an alleyway. There are rarely any people on that stretch at the time I go so I don’t feel too silly.
It goes through a farm, and usually there are only sheep for company, occasionally a couple of horses or cows or even deer, and every now and then I’m joined by an owl or a bat. I can’t even remember why I picked it now but having a silly name for it now makes it feel a little bit gladiatorial. I quite like that.
I never thought I could do intervals but I worked with an amazing coach for a little while at the start of last year and he made me make myself do them. I was stunned by how much I enjoyed them (afterwards) and how they made me feel so strong after, literally like I could do anything I set my mind to, maybe even take on the world.