Oh my days I've been in a very dark place this week. Was contemplating just giving up on the whole program. My second attempt at w7r2 was even worse than the first, barely managed 8 minutes running, it was dreadful.
That was on Tuesday evening. This morning my husband dutifully evicted me from the house at 5.30am and I am so glad he did.
I actually felt surprisingly good having had a block of four solid hours of sleep- the most I've had in one solid stretch for at least a month. Humphrey only had one feed and Fred only woke twice and there was only one "what the f*** was that" moment when a mouse trap went off in the loft.
Anyway back to the run- I went out with the mindset of just get to 15 and see what happens, by 9 I was trying to give in but had to speed up past the menace Alsatian puppy and consequently forgot I wanted to give up, next thing I knew Laura was telling me we were half way. That coincided nicely with the downhill bit and then it was 20, so I knew I could finish. I even manged the last 60 seconds at Agnes' canter pace and it was uphill too!
Finished absolutely pooped but on a high. Then got home to three screaming kids, the dog started howling, and the husband promptly left for work. Whilst finally managing to sit down for my porridge I was summoned to wipe a bum. I now realise the dark place I go to when I run Is actually quite nice.....I shall revisit it on Saturday morning for w7r2.