Sunday 18 March 2018

Going strong

I have reached a lot of running milestones during my time being coached by Ben and each one has felt at the time like the Best Thing Ever.  Well, this week surpasses all of the other milestones for sheer unbelievability and wonderfulness.  Wait for it...

I ran 42.09 miles this week.  Me.  The one who could never manage more than 15 miles/week without something popping, snapping, or seizing.  Fuck me.  I have no idea whose legs these are, but I'm not giving them back.

Today's 18 miles (25 minutes running/5 minutes walking) on a hilly off-road route was great.  Even after yesterday's 12 miles, my legs felt fine.  Well, they felt fine up until two hours, when I stopped to have a chat with the owners of two lovely Alsatians.  Unfortunately, my legs interpreted the stop as them being finished and no longer needed, and they were most unhappy at being pressed back into service (especially since there was another hill looming).  It took most of the next hour to convince them to perk up and, while this wasn't exactly comfortable running, I knew that it was just tired legs and that I'd get through it.  And sure enough, after an hour's slogging and trying not to focus on how absolutely bloody tired my glutes, calves, and feet were, it was like a switch was flipped and I suddenly had functioning legs again.  Weird. The last half-hour was back to feeling comfortable, and I even had enough energy to pick up the pace for the last mile. I finished the run feeling strong and capable and positive, and confident that I could have continued on.

So that's it.  My last long runs before the ultra on 31 March.  I'm tempted to spend the next two weeks doing absolutely no running at all - there's no point in risking attracting the attention of the Running Gods at this late stage - but I suspect that Ben would not be supportive of that (although I haven't asked, so who knows?).  However, to show how determined I am to do all that I can to get to the start line in one piece, I will not be wearing heels to my Girls' Night Out in Glasgow tomorrow. 

We ultra runners know the meaning of sacrifice.

Note to self:  Putting a swoosh on them does NOT make them running shoes.

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