Final run of Week 6 this morning so, as usual, the alarm was set for 5 am, it being a weekday.
And as usual, I was up before it.
Mrs Fingalo and I had been out for a meal last night, it very windy with downpours then so I was half expecting the weather to be awful and as it transpired, overnight did little to ease its temper.
I walked out the door and the rain was obvious, grand but at least there's no wind. Or so I thought. Three minutes into my warm up walk brings me out of the shelter of the street and onto the beachfront, then it hit me. Ho hum, wind as well as rain, I'll cope.
It was only when one of my running socks slipped off my heel that I began to think the omens were against me.
I chose to run into the wind at first and well before five minutes I was soaked through, although I took the attitude that that was as bad as it was going to get and didn't let it bother me after that. The run itself wasn't the most comfortable, I found it nowhere near as easy (?) as the 20 minuter in Week 5 but at the same time never really thought I'd be unable to complete it. As others have said, the second half was slightly better than the first.
I loved Laura's spacing of her time checks, the five minute marker was okay but then I kind of assumed the next one would be ten minutes, however I seemed to be running forever and was hoping she'd let it slip to 12/5 minutes because we all know your mind can con you into believing you've run for longer than you have. How grateful was I when she came on and said I'd done half of it!
(It was just after this point that I ran straight through a puddle and realised I was wrong in saying it couldn't get any worse. I'd assumed my feet would be wet but that cold water proved me wrong! A horrible feeling, if only for a few seconds.)
I then guessed that 20 would be the next marker and once there, I knew I'd be able for the final five minutes.
As an indication of how I found the run, I usually recover two or three minutes into the warm down walk but this time, even as I reached my front door, I hadn't quite got my breath back. The funny thing is, before the the final music had finished, it struck me that Laura hadn't told me I could now officially consider myself a runner (as I'd read on other blogs) and I was on the opening lines of my letter of complaint when on she came. What a wonderful feeling it was too. Knackered as I was, I smiled so broadly that in the absence of anyone else stupid enough to be out in that weather, the birds in the trees were the ones looking at me as if I were a nutter.
Am looking forward to Thursday now as I'd like to find more of a rhythm, then hopefully Saturday's run will be better still.
Week 7 eh, who'd have thunk it?