Sunday, 22 May 2011

In praise of slow

After a week of false starts, I pulled out all the stops to ensure today's run actually occurred. Primarily, I uploaded a new radio comedy to my iPod. (New to me, but not to my brother who drew my attention to said comedy - or to anyone who first heard of it back in 2005. I'm such a late adopter.) Anyway, if Ed Reardon's Week couldn't provide motivation, then nothing could.

It worked. I ran for ages. Across to Hampstead, over the Heath, back through Swiss Cottage. Apart from a stitch halfway through series 2, episode 2, it was flawless. However, when I got home and tried to map my route ( something strange happened. I found I had absolutely no recollection of the first 3 miles. It's the bit of the route that I always do. Maybe I went into a bit of a commuter trance. Maybe it was because I was absorbed in Ed Reardon. Either way, it's a bit disturbing. I can truly say that I can't recall anything of the first 30 minutes. In fact, I think it was the stitch that 'woke me up'. That and bumping into Alastair Campbell.

Minor amnesia aside, I was pleased to find I had plenty of 'run' left in my legs, even after an hour. In fact, at that pace, I could do the half-marathon easily. And then I calculated the pace. And found out why.

(Stats: 6.9 miles; 1.23.23; 12.05 minute/mile.)

(Pic: Not to everyone's running tastes, but my grubby little iPod is a life saver.)

P.S. If you witnessed a girl, giggling maniacally, while running in a minor daze over the Heath, this is what she was laughing at: Ed Reardon's Week

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