I'm going to bed last night listening to the gales outside and the rain pounding on the windows. I've spent the day stretching and hydrating, desperately trying to get my legs back in to running mode after Wednesdays 10K. I'm determined. Parkrun PB here we come - all I need is a good night's sleep, plenty of caffeine in the morning and for weather to ease up.
What I really don't need is my little girl keeping me awake for best part of 3hours in the middle of the night.
I wake up with that age old mental battle... as I hear the rain and wind worse than ever and feeling tired and groggy from a poor nights sleep, my mind, body and wife tells me running in this is rediculous. Go back to sleep!
I fight through, get up, get dressed and get to the starting line. My motivation - I've got to beat my friend.
We both know parkrun is just a bit of fun, but we also have that friendly banter and competition between us. He's been running a lot longer than me but I always beat him. That was until a few weeks ago when I couldn't be there and he knocked 9seconds off my PB. He hasn't let me forget that so today, while he stayed home to watch the rugby, I needed to reclaim my crown.
Long story short (ok, so it hasn't been that short) and despite everything being against me I ran hard, I ran fast and I got a new parkrun PB - 24:36 which I'm obviously really pleased about. But I'm still 1 second short of beating my mate. Gutted. I can guarantee I'll be bombarded with texts and jokes from him all week about that 1 measly little second.
More training, more sleep, and another try next time.