The day I dreaded, then handled, then dreaded then was grand about.
I'd set the alarm for 8.am but because my runs in the week were so quiet, I got up and went out not long after 7 as my first run last Saturday was a bit too crowded for my liking. The ego being what it is (and if I'm being honest, this thing is very much, but not entirely, about ego) I was happier with less people around. In six months time I intend to be running along in bright colours, with bells on and operating a large klaxon.....
I set off and tried to distract myself from the running sections being longer by looking around and attempting to take Laura's advice about breathing patterns. Silly cow that she is. I'm sure she's done the programme but by feck, if she was able to keep to the 1,2,3,4 shite she advises at the time she did it then she's a better woman than I. Erm.....now I think about it, as a big hairy arsed man, I have to concede her that one.
"Land on your heel, breathe this way......" Feck off Laura! I'm happy to land on anything below my knee and continue to breathe in any way, shape or form!
So into the 2nd of the 90 second runs and I'm looking ahead, where I see a rake of runners about 100 yards ahead on the beach (it's a pebble, rather than a sand, beach) flying down to the water then back up again, at which stage I'm reminded of the team I saw on my first run beating along with tyres over their heads, and began to despair.. Not because I wanted to stop but because I was thinking I'd have to be struggling by them pretty soon. Not a big deal if they stayed on the beach but oh no, the bastards split into teams just as I was on top of them, half staying on the beach and the others heading off for a run just in front of me. I was only delighted they weren't behind me as the army type fella leading them (full combats and a full feckin' rucksack) was barking at them so loudly I'd probably have ended up in the next town.
My concern about the step up from Week 1 was justified by the third run, which I found tough and it was confirmed by the fact that I found it difficult to march along after it. Although I was quite pleased in that I was able to increase the pace of my walk towards the end of the two minutes allowed, I was pleased as I like to see some sign of progress, no matter how slight.
That said, the rest of the walking sections were a complete failure with regard to Johnson's interpretation of the word 'brisk'.
So now I'm on my way back and into the 5th run, struggling away and what do I see but that shower of army types I'd met earlier, this time doing a circular thing up and down a flight of steps to the roadway. On the outside I managed an air of insouciance, whilst privately fantasising about running amok with a Kalashnikov!
Overall I found the first run of Week 2 tough but doable, like the first run of Week 1. However unlike that first run, I knew what to expect and it's occurred to me that if i can do the first run of any week, the next two days of it will be handy enough. Another thing I was reassured by was that I had been doubting if my jogging sections were too slow but on this run I was almost keeping up with the 'army' crowd and catching up with another lad on a later section.
Bring on Monday morning!