How Not to Train for a Half Marathon

Back at the physio today; more massage agony, more acupuncture, more strapping.  It is getting better but it’s unbelievably slow and is driving me a bit nuts. 

It’s now nearly 6 weeks since I stopped running and I know more about Elisabeth’s personal life than I really need to. But I’ve appreciated her wisdom and have learned a lot about how stupid people can be (err, that might be me then) about something as ‘simple’ as running. 

So based on my bitter experience, here is my guide to effectively prevent yourself from running a half marathon:

1. do absolutely sod all research about beginning to run – nothing, zilch, rien – don’t even bother to Google.  After all, jeez, it’s only running, how hard can it be???

2.  dig out any old pair of volleys and head out the front door on a ‘training run’.  This means joggling past the local cafe several times thinking you’re impressing the neighbours.  But all they’re wondering is ‘what is that daft tart up to now?’ before returning to their lattes and the Fin Review.  This is Sydney; it’s brutal.

3.  ignore the note in bold print on the training schedule where it says that it assumes you already run 5-10km a week.  Because that’s only for  sissies. 

4.  make no allowance for the fact that you are no longer 24 years of age, nor a size 12, and haven’t been for quite some millenia

5.  ignore the possibility that your body may harbour resentments  against you which have accumulated over the past 24 years of misuse.  Wobbling round the block (in front of the neighbours) is the final indignity.  Now it’s payback.

These approaches will generally stop 99% of the population in their tracks; literally.  Because the next step is crawling into the physio’s office with shin splints, PF or worse. 

I thought that going from 3 minutes to 60 minutes jogging in just over 4 weeks meant I was a genius.  It didn’t.  It meant something else entirely, which my self-esteem is still trying to avoid admitting.  Five letters, begins with I, ends in T.  The other letters are D, I and O.

Injury was inevitable.

But today I signed up for the City to Surf  (14km) on 14 August and expect to walk and jog it – and that’s just fine.  I’ve learned my lesson.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s