May 23, 2013
Today, admittedly nurturing a slightly fuzzy head, on a Thursday, I know, I realised I had been neglecting my distance running since deciding to set myself the target of completing a 10k race in under 50 mins. (Not going too badly, thank you for asking.) So, I decided to postpone the planned speed session, drop the pace and burst out from my 6.2 mile limit.
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve done more than 10k so I was quite excited at the prospect of just running for the fun of it without a particular goal in mind. As I set off, the sun was shining and the sky was blue, perfect!
Sadly, it didn’t last long, within half an hour, the sun had disappeared behind a cloud and I was being pelted with hailstones. Ah, the joys of running.
A call of nature caught me out about four miles in, which, me being me, was fine as I have a mental note of where all the local facilities are, but it gave me the chance to think about how far I really wanted to go – I refer back to the fuzzy head mentioned earlier!
I decided to go for eight miles, noting that along the route there were at least three, possibly five sensible places I could duck out and jump on a bus the rest of the way instead. Again, being me, I’d made sure I’d tucked my bus pass in my pocket, just in case.
So, call answered, water bottle replenished, I set off again, with renewed determination.
And, would you believe it, I made it to eight miles – my reluctance to be a quitter coming in handy – then duly rewarded myself with a large cup of coffee and a small but perfectly hangover-reducing piece of flapjack.