So here we have a couple of phenomenally fit and talented athletes trying really really hard. I think I pulled that face today, only it wasn’t after three rounds of swimbikerun in tropical temperatures, or in the last 200m of running a 3km race in 8 minutes and 30 seconds. Nope. I pulled that face less than 5 minutes into perhaps 800m of running.
I’m trying to see the positives: I started running, check; despite feeling pretty terrible for the majority of the time, I didn’t walk home, check; I am unhurt, check; perhaps my fitness improved by a milllionth of VO2 capacity or however we measure fitness, check. But really, it just felt like a very bad run.
I must have stopped half a dozen times, if not more. I couldn’t keep my mouth closed, I was gasping from the start. It was like the wind was coming in and scooping the oxygen out of my mouth before I could suck it in. 2km in I stood at a literal crossroads; my mind was like tumbleweed rolling down the road... should I just go home or carry on? The wind blew me in the direction of the longer journey and I just went with it.
The whole run was clueless, directionless, almost. I set out without a plan, optimistically thinking I’d just go with the flow. I had meant to go out straight after the school run, so I didn’t eat, but my mum phoned and wanted to meet, and it was past 11am when I managed to lace up the shoes. It did occur to me as I set out that I didn’t eat a massive amount the day before, either; a couple of eggs for lunch, a banana in the afternoon and a cheesy jacket potato for dinner. Fiona Oakes (ultra-marathoner) may be able to eat just one vegan meal a day and run 50 miles, but I can’t even run 5k.
I was knackered.
Another unhelpful factor was the fact I had overdressed again. A few of you may remember one notable run when for some reason I donned half my running wardrobe on a mild day and ended up slumped and broken hanging over a fence? I wasn’t wearing quite so much today, but I had put on a hat and gloves, a base layer and a mid layer (I know, I know). I felt I had one of those thermal packs on my chest; I was running along at one point pulling my top down trying to put out the fire. Heaven knows what’s going to happen in the summer; I may need to tape an ice pack to my chest. I stopped and stripped at 2.5km and did recover for a bit; another lesson relearned.
Clearly a ‘long run’ was out of the question today, so I decided to turn it into ‘intervals’ and pretend I was stopping because I was putting in extra effort, as opposed to just having zero stamina. So I put in 1/2k runs, then stopped, then did another 1/2k, achieving an average pace (whilst running) of 5’48”. I ran 6’16”, 6’19” and 6’24” kms on my graduation run without stopping, so this was a pretty good indicator of just how bad it felt today.
I keep seeing you guys running further and further, it’s really wonderful. I really do feel I’m going backwards sometimes though. Maybe a quarter of a century of smoking means my lungs won’t function at the level they should... who knows. Maybe it was just a bad run. Ach well.