So once again, I survived a Week 2 run! And, if I dare say it, I found it perhaps a little easier than my first run of this second week.
Although my legs were beginning to mutter threats of mutiny at the 70s mark of each run (pathetic, I know!) I found I was less out of breath by the end of each run. I think the key was not gunning it on the first 90s run (on my first 90seconds of the Run 1 on Tuesday I had to leg it past some builders, you may recall, at a stupidly brisk jog to avoid total humiliation. but then probably exhausted myself from the outset as a result). Today I took the running/jogging sections at a much steadier pace, which was more manageable over the course of 20 minutes. However, I was struggling with Laura's instructions about breathing: she says to breathe in for four counts of your left foot hitting the ground (and breathe out similarly) but I found I could only do it for one or two counts at best. Am I breathing too fast? Am I running too slow? Does Laura have the slow and meditative breathing technique only enjoyed by Buddhist monks and nuns? I've no idea!
Today I ran a different way along the canal, through Goose Danger Zone. Fortunately all the geese must have been holidaying in Scarborough or something, for there were none to be seen and I made it back with all my limbs un-maimed. I did however see two very cute baby moorhens, and scared off nine herons.
'Gosh', thought I, after I had scared off the first three, 'There are a lot of herons about this morning. What an oasis for wildlife I live near!'
After scaring off heron number four I began to take more notice of these magnificent birds - after all, it's rather special to see so many of them in such a short space of time. However, once I started to pay more attention to my surroundings (and less to the two blisters on my feet) and engaged my brain, I noticed that it was actually the same heron that had been repeatedly frightened into flight as I careered clumsily past, and then landed further up along the tow path. My first thought, I am ashamed to say, was 'Herons in Yorkshire are pretty dim'. I mean, why fly off and then land further up the canal (where I'm heading) only to be scared off when I run past you again a minute later, eight times over, you silly bird? But, talking of silly birds, how did I not realise it was the same heron sooner?
For Run 3 this week I intend to avoid further herononcanal-induced confusion to my tiny brain by taking a route through the woods. The inclines might kill me, but trees don't move - right?