Fear is a strange demon, because at the moment I am battling with it in two forms, one driving me on and the other telling me whoa there. But more of that later.
Today's run went well, allaying the (very) slight doubt I had that the improvement I felt from run 1 to 2 wasn't 'true', whilst making it clear the curve wasn't going to be quite as dramatic every time. Or possibly ever again.
Out of my scratcher at the same time as Monday and on the beach by 5.30, Laura (lovely lady) gave me the go and off I went. One thing I noticed (and I imagine this will be familiar to established runners) is that I noticed. I noticed the waves on the sea, the frost on the grass and also that unlike Monday, I wasn't the only person out that early. Of course the first two may well have been evident on Monday but I'm convinced there were only some people around today because it's slowly getting out that there's amusement to be had watching some optimistic nutter dressed as if he intends running to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch but who only reaches Lla and starts walking, before starting up again. If this goes viral I could well have the most widely attended graduation run in the history of the programme.
Oh and given that it didn't rain today and my hat stayed in place, I've concluded that my theory is sound and my head does indeed shrink in the rain.
Glad to report that recovery is already quicker too, I had barely any soreness in my legs the day after run 2, had no lightheadedness post run this morning and felt grand after ten minutes, a pint of water and a banana.
Which brings me to Day Four. If truth be known it's been on my mind since my run went so well on Monday as I'd previously felt I'd definitely have to repeat this week before stepping it up but decided if this run went as well, I'd go for it. However I now have a real fear of it doing to me what Day One did to me last Saturday, a day so bad I considered ending the programme there and then. On the other hand I relish the idea of the challenge, feeling (fearing) that if I don't accept it it will be a personal failure. And if I do and don't complete the eight runs....well, I'm sure you know what I mean.
Actually, whilst writing this blog I've realised I am going to go for it, the decision is almost in the title for it occurs to me that if I've already gone from thinking during my run "all I have to do is reach that bin and that's the end of this 60" or "thank god there's only two running sections left" to "bloody hell, can I move on to 90 second runs and only a minute recovery" then perhaps I'm ready.
As a precaution, instead of taking only one day off (as I'd prefer) I intend taking two because if it does give me the kicking I expect, at least I won't have to ready myself for work on Friday morning whilst nursing the bruises, so Saturday it is. And the bonus is, I'll get to see if the old guy tries to jump the fence onto the beach again.