Had a shorter run today and it was again Michael Johnson’s turn to come with me and put me through my paces. Week 1 from C25k but fartlek style. So when he said walk I ran my usual pace and when he said run I ran faster. It seems like a good idea, but how can running slightly faster for just one minute be so exhausting? The first interval after the 5 minute warm up walk was a bit of a shock to the system, (note to self: do my own warm up walk then jog with Michael’s warm up next time... if there is a next time). So the next 90 seconds was spent trying to get my breathing back in check while running at a more reasonable pace.
My legs were happy with this, but by the time Michael said to run again (i.e. run faster) my lungs were not so sure. But somehow I managed to persevere through the whole of the run like this, somehow convincing myself that this odd form of self imposed torture was good for me. At the end of the intervals I decided I would continue to 5km, and left the park where I’d been running laps (more masochism, as I hate laps almost as much as I hate running fast) and headed for the woodland up the road. At last, I said to myself, I can enjoy my run, and settled into a comfortable pace. But I spoke too soon as before long my tired feet stumbled, and I found myself flailing through the air in an unsuccessful attempt to stop myself hitting the ground. At least I didn’t damage my previous wrist injury, so I got up as quickly as I could hoping that if I kept on running I could ignore the grazes on my knees and arm, and at least thank my lucky stars that I didn’t land in a massive clump of nettles (like my fall some weeks ago).
Well it seemed to work as at 5km I had been running for just over 25 minutes. I can’t believe it. I’ve been trying to break 27 minutes for so long and this was nearly 2 minutes faster.
Happy running everyone. 😄