That's the midway bell that chimed on W5R2 which is also the midway point of this whole mucky, sordid affair. In terms of runs anyway, 13.5 runs into a 27 run programme. The midway point for the running doesn't land until about 15 paces into W7R1.
I know what you're thinking, what kind of anal prick works all that out? You're lookin' at (reading) him, bebby. I reckon at least one of you out there gave a slow, bottom-lip-protruding, appreciative nod at that little statoid. We should be bezzies.
I've got a lot of time on my hands at the moment. Actually, that's a complete lie, I feel like I've been busier than I have been for years. I'm now between projects, my last contract has been satisfied and my next one is waiting on the small matter of final investment, and is getting put back and back like moving the oven to recover that old bit of carrot that found its way down the gap between the worktop 10 months ago and has inexplicably sprouted an afro. You know the one.
So while half the country is furloughed, I'm a member of the great unwashed. By rights I should be sat in a yellowing string vest and an old pair of Y's so worn that I can barely keep both testicles in at the same time. I should be f*cked-up on Special Brew from 9:30am onwards. Sweat should be congealed in every crevice. I should have to clean myself with a spoon.
But noooo. I'm not allowed to enjoy it like normal people, I have to be a painter, a furniture builder, a picture hanger, a nursery dropper-offer. I have to play tea parties, be a hospital patient, be a tag-you're-itter, a cupcake baker, and many more demeaning tasks.
I haven't had a holiday for about 2 years (other than a few days last Christmas) so it's been luxury, but ridiculously busy. I swear I had more time on more time on my hands when I was churning out 15 hour days. But I've been running. Regular like a prune heavy diet. And I've been keeping slow...most of the time. In the earlier runs I opened up my legs for the last minute, but last run (W5R1) my pace crept up again into the 5:something/km range and for the first time since winding it in, I had a good ol' mouth breath in my last run, not quite weaving those dribble webs or wheezing like broken accordion, but noticeably up in the higher heart rate zone again.
Every man needs a vice, right? I'm dieting, not smoking, not drinking, and I'm too much of a sack of pink custard to be able to have an affair with anything more upright than the second primate on the evolutionary chart, so something's got to give. I'd try my hand at Gimpery if we weren't in lockdown. Mind you, all that crawling around with two thirds of a toilet brush corked up my jacksie probably wouldn't bode well for the knees.
Or arse.
Or marriage.
Speaking of knees, they've been at me again like a begrudged wife; non-stop. I can't do squats, I know I can't do squats, so I don't for the life of me know why I thought doing some squats was a good idea. I convinced myself I'd be alright doing some self-weight squats to help build core strength, but in terms of good ideas, it was comparable to eating a jar of angry wasps. If I could donor my knees away, a doctor wouldn't even sew them to a corpse. I'm starting to feel niggles again, the same as every time around this point so I might need to start shoe-horning a couple of extra rest days between runs.
It's the big two-zero next. This is the third time I've ran it, but in both previous C25K attempts I've fallen to bits in week 6 and had to trace back along my running route to pick up the pieces that fell off. This time I'm determined to get to that bitter week-nine end, even if I'm belly-crawling and dragging myself along with my teeth (it still counts), so I probably need to break it all up a bit.
Running slow is helping, but still feels pretty impactful on the crumbling joints, so I think more rest is a necessity. My problem is I'm all talk though. It all sounds good to my self when I'm spouting logic and rationale, but when it comes to it, it's a double dose of deep heat and promise of a next time.
My last 2 W5R2's were at 5:36/km and 5:32/km respectively, this time I'm aiming for around 6:45/km, as that seems to be where I'm ending up at the moment.
Reading that sentence back, I've suddenly realised I'm too blasé about it this time. W6R3 is my nemesis too much of my current focus is on yanking down its trousers and slapping it sore, but I need to reserve a bit of respect for this menace right in front of me. Maybe I'll have an extra day before getting out there. *reaches for deep heat*
Happy running fitwits! If anyone needs to learn some new swearwords, I spent 3 days putting flatpack furniture together, so I'm currently fluent.
Strengthening exercises
Easing back into it from the IC :D
What to do on rest days
10 miles (16.09km) - 1:32:44 - Almost HM Pace!
