Nowhere to hide

There comes a time in every runner’s relationship with her support team when it becomes clear that they know her so well that they can predict what she is going to do before she does it.  For example, that’s why Adam knows to precisely define what ‘taking it easy’ means when he is giving instructions for looking after niggles and injuries.  He knows that I have my own definition of that and I need to be explicitly told what to do.  Merely telling me to be SENSIBLE doesn’t work, but it took him ages to figure that out.

Ben’s understanding of me has now officially reached the mind-reading stage.  I had let him know that Adam wanted me to ‘take it easy’ on Tuesday and Wednesday (apparently that did not include doing the scheduled threshold session even at a slightly slower pace, or even doing the 40-minute easy-effort run; what Adam actually had in mind was me doing those sessions at the gym on the bike or the cross-trainer), and I duly reported to Ben after Tuesday’s gym session that I had done it but hated it.  Mainly because I had forgotten my earphones and so had to listen to the gym’s choice of techno music for an hour.

Wednesday morning rolled around and I had convinced myself to give the 40-minute easy-effort session a miss because, really, what possible difference would that make in the scheme of things?  I was in the process of coming up with a plausible excuse to give to Ben when what should ping into my inbox but an email from him.  ‘What are you doing?  Get out there and do that session.  I don’t care how miserable you think it will be, go and do it and then complain to me later.’  Bloody hell, how did he know???  It kind of freaked me out but it did make me put on my running kit and get out the door.

The gym was fine, mainly because I remembered my headphones.  And I didn’t even complain to Ben afterwards because where’s the fun in complaining if you’ve been given permission to do so?

Sigh.  I am now officially an Open Book.