I mentioned previously how I tried a Week 4 run while on holiday and couldn't do the final 5 minutes, then my back started giving me problems and I wasn't able to run again until last Thursday, when I did a Week 3 run by way of a warm up. Well on Saturday I tried again and completed it. It wasn't pretty and my usual confidence after every first run of a Week that once I've done it once I can do run 2 and 3 isn't quite as unshakable but that's for another day. Sadly that day was supposed to be today but I've developed a pain in my pelvic/groin area and so didn't run this morning.
Have to say I was absolutely gutted!
Returning to Saturday, I got up a wee bit later than usual (7am) and was out ten minuters later. The 'fret' was down (a misty fog that comes off the sea, the locals call it the fret) which feels like running through a cloud, not an unpleasant experience. By which I mean the feel of moisture, not being unsighted as if running in cotton wool.
Going out late meant that although it was dark when I began, it was light when I finished, quite unnerving for the nocturnal runner I've become. It was the most runners I've seen since my very first run of the C25k, probably the 'new year resolution' brigade had woken up as for the first time since I started this thing, I didn't see a single runner when I ran on Thursday, with the exception of one very rainy run. I think I may have spotted one or two fellow Couchers too as they had the gear on but were walking. Have to say, I didn't really like seeing it so busy. Still self conscious, I suppose.
Also that shower of bastards who do the military training were out again, talk about give you an inferiority complex! I suspect I'll be out earlier next time I run on a Saturday....
The first three minutes weren't too bad at all, ditto the first five minute run, I simply kept telling myself I'd done that long on my aborted Week 4 run. And again with the second three minuter. All the while though that second five minutes was tormenting me, loitering in the back of my mind and whispering sweet nothings along the lines of 'there's no way you can do it'.
Fortunately, I had prepared an aid, namely that Mike Scott poem/song I mentioned I found so inspirational in an earlier blog, Spirit. At about the two minute mark, I began reciting it to myself:
Man gets tired, spirit don't
Man surrenders, spirit won't
Man crawls, spirit flies
Spirit lives when man dies
Man seems, spirit is
Man dreams, spirit lives
Man is tethered, spirit's free
What spirit is, man can be.
It tells you something about the physical relationship to the mental that while it helped me get through to the end, by the third and final time I was reciting it, I was struggling to remember the words.
And so to my disappointment at not being able to do it again this morning, fortunately I had an appointment booked with my GP this evening for another matter so at least I can get it assessed quickly and instead of running, I have a four mile walk lined up for lunchtime so at least today won't be a complete write off.
Annoying though that I should have been frightening the life out of myself by now with a peak at Week 5.....
Ho hum, onwards and upwards!