Long version:
I hate shopping for headgear. The problem is, I got me one of them little-heads. Not on a Microcephaly, or Beetlejuice scale (as pictured), but I don’t think I can legally ride a motorbike due to the potential for the crash-helmet to rotate a full 180° in the wind.
I hate online clothes shopping at the best of times; it stems from not actually being birthed but instead sewn together from the contents of an unlocked hospital dustbin. Apart from the head, I’ve got long arms, little legs, one foot bigger than the other and a torso wedged somewhere between medium and large (depending on where I am in that fitness / slobbery waltz that endlessly swirls, turns, and often face-plants smack-bang in the middle of the dancefloor). I’ve had to fully segregated my clothes, like some kind of apparel apartheid in “fit and fat” wardrobes and oscillate between them.
Mediums aren’t always mediums by the way, and the same for larges. The whole online shopping scene is like a dating app. Clothes are free to big themselves up with some good photo they took in the 90’s and a dribble-string of spiel. When you finally meet them for cocktails, that vizard comes crumbling down and you see them for what they truly are, and have to send them back at your own cost (the clothes that is, the date can walk). I’m a rubbish sender-backer too, so I’ve ended up with a whole chest of drawers of redundant gear, and a line of offspring I’ve never met.
The whole thing is in dire need of governance.
That’s normal clothes. Shopping online for headgear is three levels deeper into Dante’s hell. It’s a world of one-size-fits-alls (they don’t) and they exclude the peanut-headed to the point of discrimination.
I know there are a few of you out there saying, “I bet there’s a plus side to this too. I bet you don’t get static build-up when putting on jumpers” and this is true. I’ll also admit that I delight in the fact that I can just toss the jumpers up in the air and stand beneath them as they gently waft, right down to the shoulders like an absurdly easy game of human quoits. But any joy experienced is immediately overshadowed when trying to buy, in this case, a head-torch.
It’s like a game of Russian Roulette. Although, admittedly, a slightly lower fatality rate.
Buying a head-torch in the first place is quite a tricky engagement, what with the cross-eye inducing specs of luminosities, spreads, ranges, battery lives, etc. etc. But then throw into that cauldron head-band adjustability, lamp size, mass, it becomes a desperately serious undertaking.
I had 5 good minutes before entering princess mode:
I just want one that looks pretty.
Just something that doesn’t weigh the same as a fat baby, doesn’t sag down my face, and looks pretty.
And doesn’t fold my ears.
And meets mandatory kit requirements.
And doesn’t cost the same as fine art.
And looks pretty.
Is that too much to ask?
Anyway, I settled on one. I put all that effort in, bought it, had it delivered, and it’s now currently packaged up on my desk waiting to be sent back. *sigh*
Nearly all of my running gear comes from sportsshoes.com, and I’ve got to say, I find their aftersales amazing (which is beneficial, considering all of the above) and their returns policy is very fair. I thought this was just for me because I’m on first names terms with half of the customer service team, but it seems their forgiving policies apply to all of their customers (I’m less enthused by this), as what turned up this time had clearly been sent to someone else previously, and had clearly been forced back into the box and clearly returned once before. The inside packaging was crumpled, the housing of the lap itself was bent and misaligned, and there was even a piece missing from the box. A little cable-management clip that stops the wire from slapping you in the face like an irritated cat.
The worst part is though, I think it actually fit. I got something that fits my circumferentially-challenged cranium, and it still needs to go back!
I’ve been running with an old body-light that throws shadows in all directions and has you dodging phantom tree roots that must've poked through the veil from a parallel universe. You can’t see what you’re looking at either, not without rotating your torso like some lurching Frankenstein. It’s had a good innings though. I think when something can be categorised as 67% Sellotape, it's on its way out.
Due to life being utterly relentless and all-consuming of every waking moment, when I run, I need to be up, out and back before It comes and throws another day in my face. Whatever I’m doing, I need to be home by 6:30am so I’ve time to stretch and boil the kettle before I start levering the kids out of bed with a crowbar just before 7:00am. One good habit I’ve kept since my C25K days is the 5 minute(ish) walk before and after my runs. At the last time of counting, I’ve got 300,000 different run-routes mapped, ranging from 2 miles to 22 miles that full-loop (nothing more satisfying than a clean loop) so start and end in the same spot, about 0.5km round the corner. I’m moving house next month and I’m seriously going to miss them.
I try and keep my easy runs between 6:15 and 6:30/km (getting into this, I think my next post needs to be about the joylessness of data comparison. I’m just mentioning split times here to illustrate run durations) so a 5km takes just over 30mins, plus 10mins of walking, which means leaving the house at 05:50am latest. Historically, my longest pre-work runs have had me out the door at 4:45am, which I don’t think can even be considered morning runs to any sane person. 4:45am is night. This latest training plan that I’ve hashed together (and clearly stitched myself up with) would require me out the door earlier than this again, even before the clocks have the decency to change. Which means I’m going to need that head torch. Plus some potent amphetamines.
In reality, I’ll probably turn these ones into double run days, and break-off 5km from the morning and try to shoehorn them in either at lunchtime or in the evening.
I miss smoking, drinking, and generally festering. Life was so much simpler being unhealthy.
On the whole, I’ve had a pretty uneventful week of it. I’ve been focussed on just getting everything moving again and getting into a routine, which I’ve pretentiously called “pre-training”, but it’s actually more akin to corpse-thawing, or breaking the rigor-mortis. Last week I did…
…prepare for the ridiculous back-and-forthing between units. I’ve got absolutely no self-respect for it, but can’t help myself…
… 2mi/5k/5k/5k for a weekly total of 18.3km all at easy pace, with…huh…only 1 little base session on the exercise bike, and only 1 30min strength session.
The “only’s” are because I’m realising in real-time that I’ve been skiving and didn’t remember. I should’ve done 3 bike sessions and 1 more strength. Naughty boy.
Yesterday, I did 5k (in some kind of ice age that appeared out of nowhere) plus both a base and strength session. Today I’m having a full rest other than maybe a bit of foam-rolling / impact gun tonight, and then for the rest of the week I’ll do: 5k tomorrow and re-introduce back-to-back runs 2mi Saturday and 4mi Sunday all again at easy pace. If I’m a good boy, I’ll do another couple of base sessions and 1 more strength session. Next week, I’ll starting putting a bit more structure into the running.
So, that’s it! What a week!
Keep running everyone, with your big heads and your hats that aren’t filled with polyfiller. You don’t know how good you’ve got it.
Tricky decision made ☹️
10K PR in storm Francis 
6 weeks and 1 day to go and I’m finding it hard work….