Hello fellow Troopers and Troopettes
What the hell is going on with my body? Two days ago I ran my first 10K in 1'03'29 and I got a bit tipsy that evening celebrating with Mrs Dan. Had a days rest, then this morning I went out again.........
I awoke late. The cats had tried to stir me at 5am but I wasn't having any of it. Mrs Dan took care of their demands instead. I got up really excited at the prospect of todays run, partly because I wanted to do another 10K to prove I could do it - and partly to wear my new SuperDan top I'd bought at Sports Direct yesterday, along with a very sexy Union Jack running belt to hold my phone. I also was given a TIMES IRONMAN TRIATHLON watch (T.I.T) from my mum in law, as a birthday pressie so I was gonna give THAT a twirl this morning as well. My running drawer is getting SO FULL of super duper running clobber and I just LOVE IT! I got dressed in my gear - lycra man strikes again. My shin guards were extremely tight on my shins and calves and I could feel the warmth flow through my legs, encouraging them to behave today. Did my HIP'N GLUTE exercises and as per usual, made a juice and chomped on some sweet dates. I repeated the EXACT routine from the morning two days previous just to make sure I was mentally ready to run another 10K
I bid farewell to Mrs Dan who was in some unGodly position in front of the telly, doing her work out video, then started my warm up walk. My new Union Jack belt had my phone, I had my new top which had orange go faster stripes on it, along with my running leggings which also had a matching orange stripe thang going on. I WAS CO-ORDINATED PEOPLE!
Then, panic set in! Maybe I shouldn't do 10K? Maybe just do 5. Don't push your body too much Dan. Maybe do 7K? That's a compromise isn't it? Maybe 10K is too much, and what if the other day was just a fluke and what if you do some damage and what if.....
"Oh Dan - for GAWWWWWDS sake!" I heard myself saying. "shut the ***k up!!! Here's what you do. 10K. Now get on with it, you orange go-faster-striped-twonk!"
I won't bore you all with the details of each K (HealthUnlocked says "thank God!) but at 5K my TIT alarm went telling me that I'd already run 30 mins. At exactly the same time, my Endomondo app spoke from the depths of my running belt - "5 kilometres in 30 minutes 24 seconds". I was at the halfway point and all was going well. Wasn't out of breath, legs felt stronger today than two days ago, my mental state was positive and excited. I kicked 6K in the butt, I thwacked 7K with a right hook and sent it flying. I'd reached the road after leaving the Thames path. Normally I'd turn right and walk home. Not today folks! I turned left and started the final 3K, back towards St Margarets roundabout. I'd reset my TIT for another 30 minutes countdown, just to give me guidance as to where I was. I'd worked out that I can run a kilometre in 6'ish minutes so the TIT would give me a rough idea as to how much longer I had to go until the finish line.
Out of nowhere came this surge of energy. This gazelle like form. This burst of "I'm gonna nail this mutha". I upped my pace. Then went faster. Then even faster...I knew if I could keep this up, I could knock off some time from my PB set two days ago. Old Ned had told me that I could do it and I was banking on him. If he'd lied to me then there'd be trouble. Old Ned wouldn't lie to me? Would he? I ran....and ran....and ran... and got faster. where was this BURST coming from? I started to think that maybe 10K is my distance and the final 2K'ish is my super duper sprint finish thing? If I could just keep going fast until the end, I KNEW I'd get a PB. At one stage some damned workmen had shutoff the pavement and I had to go into the road to skirt around the bollards. When I joined the pavement once again, some bozo nearly collided with me and if I hadn't yelled "WATCH OUT MATE!", he'd have had me over. He apologised and I pressed on......
Suddenly 10K!!!!!! I'd done it again? But get this...... in 59'52! Where did that come from? The final two K's were run in 5'35 sec, so the extra effort had paid off. So Old Ned had come good. I kinda knew he would actually. Thanks man. You got me through.
So until the next exciting instalment of "SuperDan in Lycra with his TIT" - I bid you a beautiful weekend.