New go faster socks on this morning, plus new top and new bottoms – a veritable homage to Kmart.
And, good grief, it’s week 3 which means I haven’t given up yet. Neil’s view is that I’m usually a very good giver upper. My view is that of course I am when it concerns things like camping in Scotland in the winter in the snow. Or climbing enormous Scottish mountains in ugly boots while being attacked by midges. The day after our wedding we climbed up Ben godawful something or other. As I dragged myself up the last bit to arrive at the summit, I looked up to find it occupied by a whole tour bus of Scottish hillwalking worthies with their varicose veins and jam sandwiches, staring at me obviously thinking ‘how did SHE get up here?’ I was quite surprised myself. I did think they could have given me a round of applause or something.
But I digress.
It wasn’t so bad today. Well, it was still bad, but the 3×10 minutes didn’t descend into its usual life or death struggle.
Five minutes in I realised that my head wasn’t bellowing out the usual doomsday messages of ‘GIVE UP NOW’ and ‘THE END IS NIGH’. That’s because it was focused on a girl who’d overtaken me at a proper jogging pace instead of my minimum effort shuffle/wobble. The voice had changed to ‘that’s what YOU should be doing’, and ‘pick yer feet up’ (it’s a very uncultured voice) and ‘your bum’s EVEN BIGGER than hers’.
But I’ve noticed that if I keep going for long enough I can’t think straight anyway and the voices eventually shut up. Great, so if I ever get any better at this it’ll be 21 km of non-stop nagging.
Now I sound deranged.
I hope I’m not the only person who does this.
Neil got up at 5am and came with me on his bike to measure the distance – it’s approx 4km. So that means 8km in 1 hour, 16km in 2 hours, 21km in – oh dear. And that’s not including time out for coffees, a bit of shopping, lunch, taking photos, admiring the view etc. I should finish the actual race within a week then.
I’m going to up the training to every other day – the current schedule has a day of rest on Tuesdays and the evil cross-training on Wednesdays – and as I’ve started this rather late in the day, I need to squish it all up a bit. As a wise running colleague (thank you Andrew) told me ‘your body will let you know when it’s had enough’. I think it’s been telling me that from day 1.
Andrew also pointed out that the crappy old trainers I wear are probably not doing me any good so I’ll go and get some decent ones. That’ll get Neil worried. Being very Scottish, he’s always got an eye on expenditure (ok my expenditure) so the hundred odd dollars for new trainers will cause him physical pain. He’ll point out that he’s had his current trainers for 11 years. And he’ll keep pointing it out for months to come.
This is amazing. I’ve gone from a 3×3 minute last gasp, death roll stagger to something approaching a coordinated 3×10 minute jog in 2 and a bit weeks.
This girl’s a genius. I’m going to put that on my Ipod.