Exercise in three acts

Bit of a busy weekend, going to a family wedding in Norfolk this weekend. So that meant we had Friday off work, to pack, get sorted, pick up his mother and travel.

But I was diligent and went out for a run almost before my body had woken up on the Friday morning. In fact, I’m pretty sure that at least parts of me did remain in bed. It was just a simple out to the pylon and back, making 2.7 miles. And I didn’t try and be too ambitious, it remained a 3 minutes run 1 minute walk outing. Went OK, although it did rain just as I set foot outside the door. It’s hardly rained in ages, such that this was the first run in any precipitation in a very long time. The world had that fresh smell after rain, and it was lovely to be out.

Saturday was the wedding. All went OK. The weather let itself down slightly, and at one point there was a mad dash into the hall as it suddenly bucketed it down. Usual deal, wedding, reception and then the evening entertainment, which took the form of a barn dance. I was one of the few ladies who had clearly¬† thought about their footwear for the entire day, wearing my work shoes and happily dancing the night away in them. No matter how sparkly they are, a wedding dress and baseball boots is not a good look! Saw the bride & groom off, then back to the hotel. I’d been on the water all night, so I drove back, having first to adjust virtually every setting in his car. I do like causing havoc.

Sunday it was back home, drop his mother off and have a bit of a flump on the sofa. What with sleeping in a strange bed for a few nights and an enormous cooked breakfast, we didn’t do a lot until mid afternoon. When I decided that I ought to shake a leg and get out for a run. I’d decided that I wasn’t ready to try and extend the runs times from 3 minutes to 5 – not quite yet. At present, I feel that I’m stretching my fitness – it has not been my legs that have been crying enough, it’s been the breathing and heart.

Well, fatal last thoughts and all that.

I’d got out to start running again at 8 minutes gone and something sort of went “ouch”. I carried on for 30 seconds more but it wasn’t happening. Left leg, lower calf, on the inside something has gone ping. Hurts at the point in the step that you lift the heel and all the pressure is on the toes. Botheration. I think I’ve had a similar sensation before and it was the “other” muscle in the calf (not the big one, the other one – whose name I forget). It took rest and some stretches last time to get it to play ball again. So that could be what I do next.

Botheration, again, just in case you didn’t hear me first time. So it’s back to the wait and sees. Bother.

Back in the habit.

Sunday again. And this running lark seems to be getting to be a habit.

I’ve been watching some of the Olympics coverage. It’s that one time every 4 years when you suddenly develop an obsessive interest in some of the most obscure sports. Husband and I watched the synchronised diving and developed a real critical eye on the amount of splash and degree of synchronisation, despite the fact that I’ve never dived into a pool head first in my life, and the last time either of us stepped into a pool being sometime in the last century! That didn’t stop me clapping with delight when we won a gold medal. Then there comes the way Team GB seem to excel at certain sports. We seem to be pretty good at rowing and cycling. You spot the connection? They’re both sitting down sports. If you’re going to be good a a select set of sports, choosing those that are undertaken in a sitting position seems reasonable to me. Put it this way, sitting down for sport always seems like a pretty good plan for me.

Sunday morning saw us up and out for ringing. I’ve had a few weeks off Sunday morning ringing, for various reasons. So this was just about the first time I’ve had to work out what my Sunday ringing/running routine is going to be. Toast first, then an upper body workout and some mental exercise in the form of Stedman Cinques, Cambridge Max and Grandsire Cinques. After that, we’ve taken to heading to Costa for a coffee (decaf for me please – it does very odd things to me now. Long gone are the days I could put away an entire percolator full in a morning). So what sort of coffee do I want prior to a run? I opted for a small decaf black coffee, not wanting a large volume, not wanting loads of milk. It’s one to ponder for later. Followed by home, change and out the door.

I was having a bit of a debate about what to run. I didn’t make it out for a run on Friday (work got in the way – don’t ask, it is a very sore point!), so had only done 2 runs this week and, therefore, only 2 at the current run/walk pattern. As I headed out I was having a debate with myself about whether to run 2 minutes or 3 minutes. I got to the roundabout, and had to stand and wait for the traffic to I could cross. I ran across at a gap, and then found that had all taken me nearly 3 minutes anyway. OK, 3 minute intervals it is. And, you know what, it was OK. Although I seem to have lost the ability to do simple maths, failing dismally to work out that 16 minutes plus 3 minutes means I should have stopped running at 19 minutes, not 20 minutes. Meaning that there is an inadvertent 4 minute run in there somewhere. Oh deary deary me.

A smidge over 3 miles covered in a smidge over 40 minutes makes for a pretty good outing. It felt good enough. I have since spent the rest of the afternoon nailed to the sofa watching touring cars and, in between races, the women’s marathon. Once upon a time, I too, covered that distance. I did NOT do it in less than 2:30 and Brighton in April bears little relationship to Rio in August in terms of temperature, I assume you! I still feel cross about how I performed that day, but I still don’t feel the need to do it again… However, I am enjoying being on my feet and out in the wide world again, taking the time to run about a bit. In fact, race entry has crossed my mind…

You should learn something new every day

Although I should say that this is more a list of things I need to learn to do.

Post work run again. I could run tomorrow, but as I’m going for a second appointment for root canal, it is possible that I’m not going to be in the mood. I’ve 1:45 of being upside down in a dentist’s chair to look forward to. Yippee, lucky me.

Anyway, leaving tomorrow’s worries until tomorrow, it was run day today. So I hopped in the car to come home and found the remains of a bag of Haribo Tangfastics. I adore these, so happily scoffed the whole blinking lot.

Learning point 1) don’t eat sweets when you’re going for a run later, stoopid.

Learning point 2) Don’t buy the things in the first place and you’ll not be tempted to scoff them in the first place, dopey.

The Haribo made it into the car on Monday night, when I filled up at the petrol station on my way home for work. It was late, I was tired and the sweets were on offer. I’m afraid the willpower was in short supply and so the purchase was made.

After all that, I left it an hour after I got in and headed out for the run anyway. And it was alright. No tummy trouble with the sweets was probably more than I deserved. Headed out to the pylon, as usual. On the way back I saw another runner on the other side of the road, heading towards me. He saluted, I waved like a raving lunatic.

Learning point 3) Learn to wave neatly, muppet.

I suspect he may have thought I was a complete nutter, as it was a cross between a very girly wave and a widely energetic arm movement, Not cool, missus, not cool. But, then again, he was wearing fluorescent green shorts, so we probably could call it a score draw on the lack of cool points. Maybe he didn’t think I was all that nutty, as later on he passed me again and waved at me again. I assume he’d also turned round somewhere, but was clearly going a lot faster than I was. Probably keen to get away from the lunatic, huffy, puffy woman.

The huffy puffy woman made it back home and, all in all, it was a pretty good outing. Just a few things to learn. Although maybe I’ve left it a bit late to learn how to be cool…

(Not) Easy like Sunday Morning

Sunday, the day of rest. Unless you happen to be me, in which case Sunday has a list of things to do. Top of the list was run.

So I ran.

I don’t always tick the jobs list off in order, but this one was the easy one to get out the way – especially as it has turned out to be a deliciously warm, sunny day. I like the heat but I do tend to turn the colour of a ripe tomato when I run – even in the depths of winter. That is best avoided, so run was done ahead of the heat of the day.

Out of bed, running togs on, out the door. Mission accomplished. Each time I have built up the running, I have a mental block about the progression¬† from running 1 minute to running 2 minutes. No where else in my progression of running periods do I ever double the running interval – except here. And so I headed out with my head already telling that this was going to be hard. It was a bit tough, but if it was easy, we’d all do it. After the first 5 minutes, I stopped telling myself this was going to be difficult and settled down.

I made it out to the pylon, my turn around point this far, in 18 minutes. That’s 2 minutes faster than I did on my first outing, this running lark does show small improvements quite quickly. The thing about running more is that you cover the same ground faster, so using a fixed turn point means that the running time gets shorter. In which case I decided today that I would go further and head from the pylon across the cornfield (actually on a footpath, I didn’t just head out into a field for the hell of it) and turn at the large oak that marks the field boundary. Turned round at just over 20 minutes, feeling pretty good, if truth be told. Tired, not finding it easy, but not struggling too much either.

Then I discovered that I’d been running with a tailwind. Quite a strong tail wind, as it was now like running into the teeth of a howling gale. (That might be an exaggeration, but it felt like a howling gale). How come I never spot a tailwind until I turn round? The return leg was a bit more difficult. The 2 minutes runs became more like hard work, with me looking at my watch after increasingly short time had elapsed. The 1 minute walks seemed to be shorter and shorter and I wasn’t ready to start running again. I eventually gave in and allowed myself a 2 minute walk between runs, but it was, at least, only the one extended walk.

I got back to find I’d made 3 miles for the first time and approaching 42 minutes. No, it’s not fast, but that the longest run in terms of both distance and time. And while I did, indeed, look like a ripe tomato when I got back and jumped in the shower, I felt far more energetic and pleased with my performance. Not exactly an easy sunday morning, but a productive one.

It’s all about the space

I’m not on about space in the sense of other worlds and galaxies, I’m on about the other end of the spectrum – inner space – head space.

One of the things I have missed about not running is the way that run time is exclusively “me” time. I’m not usually with anyone. I can run along being distracted by the world around me. I can put the world to rights. I can think about anything and nothing. I don;t owe anybody anything. It is time for me and my head when I can concentrate on me and me alone. I think it fair to say that I have missed that mental element of running as much as my body has missed the physical benefits of the exercise.

Today’s mind clearer was well needed. It’s not going to be a silver bullet to solve all of my issues with stress, but it can only help.

Resisting the lure of the sofa

This was the first serious test of my willpower – the after work run. I find it easy to get in from work, flump down on the sofa and barely move again all evening. Very easy…

The intention was to leave work promptly (not my strong suit..), get in and get straight out to run. Would I manage all of that?

I almost managed the leave promptly; 15 minutes after my intended exit time is practically early for me. However, there had been an incident and part of my route home was blocked. A detour was 6 miles further and an hour longer than my usual trip home, such that instead of getting home at 6 ish, it was gone 7 ish. Would I have the willpower to get out? It was Tuesday night or nothing this week.

You will be pleased to know that I seem to have discovered some will power in my running shoes. Yay me!

I got in, threw some liquid down my neck was in, changed into running togs & dashed out the door. In fact this being determined to run business seems to be good for my pace, as I made it over almost the same distance and the same 1 minute run:1 minute walk as Sunday but a minute quicker. Not in any way intended, it just was.

I did get back, stretch, drink cook tea and then allowed myself a flump on the sofa in front of the TV for an hour, but that amount of flumping is clearly allowed. Feeling unduly proud of myself.