There and back

After yesterday's feeble six minutes, I was prepared for a proper run today. No detours to the Co-op this time. My plan was to run as far as I could for 15 minutes, then see if I could get home in the same time (or less). I figured a bit of healthy competition (with myself) might make my runs more interesting. I'm very much in favour of competition as long as no-one else is involved. Anyway, I enthusiastically put on my running leggings and long-sleeved top and headed out. However, it soon became apparent that I had not chosen wisely. It might have looked grey and cold through the window, but in reality it was quite balmy and I was boiling. I tried to roll up the arms on my top, but it's really fitted and the sleeves wouldn't budge. I managed to get a bit of air to my right wrist, but, apart from that, I was effectively vacuum-packed from the neck down. I don't think I've ever 'perspired' so much in my life. It was a good run, though. And I particularly enjoyed the local Higham Ferrers road-sweeper running ahead of me to brush the leaves from my path. I imagine it's much the same when the Queen goes for a run.

(Stats: 3.56 miles; 32.36 minutes; 9.09 minute/mile. (Split time: 16.16 minutes, so I took 4 seconds longer to do the second half. I was held up by a sniffing dog on a long lead, so I shall blame him.))

Six minutes is better than no minutes

This weekend, I'm staying with a friend in the beautiful Northamptonshire countryside. As I discovered on a previous visit, it's the perfect place to run, littered with chocolate box villages and friendly locals who all shout 'hello' whether you like it or not. Which makes my rubbish outing this morning all the more bewildering. I set off intending to run to the next village, then pop into the shop on the way home. Unfortunately, I never really 'got into it'. Which meant I 'got out of it' at the earliest opportunity. And it was a very early opportunity. At 6 minutes and 17 seconds I was running. At 6 minutes and 18 seconds I was perusing the Sunday papers in the Co-op and contemplating which one to buy. After investing in a box of Nescafe instant cappuccino sachets (I'm no stranger to sophistication!) I pootled home. It was not the most auspicious of runs but I think it was better than nothing. Just.

(Stats: 0.7 miles; 6.17 minutes; 8.58 minute/mile. (Secondary stats that include walking home with papers and shopping: 1.4 miles; 17.32 minutes; 12.31 minute/mile.))

Olympic success

Hooray! I have a place in the National Lottery Olympic Park Run. As the name suggests, it's a 5-mile run around the Olympic park, finishing in the stadium. Entry was by ballot and I can't believe I've actually been successful. I don't think I've 'won' anything since the Sudbury Court 10k raffle 2010. It's next March so I have plenty of time to train for the Olympic performance. I could not be more excited. I must purchase some new trainers immediately.

www.nationallotteryrun.com

Your attention please

It turns out that not only did I come 51st out of 72 on Saturday's parkrun, but I was 16th woman (out of 28) and first - yes FIRST - in my age category. A quick look through the results table confirmed that, remarkably, there were other people in the category. Two, in fact. So a small victory. Hooray.

Hot on the heels of success, I dragged myself out for a run yesterday. I say dragged because I've been feeling less than well since Sunday. Someone pointed out there may be a correlation between my feeling green and the amount of time I spend submerged in a pond. I don't think it's possible to catch anything from the ladies' pond. It's now so cold, no bacteria could survive. Not without a wetsuit, anyway.

So, off I went for a be-rucksacked trek up to the heath. Now, that's a little disingenuous. I got the train to the heath. Then went for a short run and an even shorter swim. I had good intentions. I would head to the parkrun course and follow that. Thereby ensuring it would be at least 5k. However, I hadn't factored in my appalling memory for direction, exacerbated by the lack of distinguishing landmarks ('I remember turning left at the big tree... oh').

Suffice to say, I got lost about 10 minutes in. And without a goal, I lost interest too and ended up wandering aimlessly in circles. I should add it was pouring with rain and by the time I located the pond I was drenched. Interestingly, it turned out that being cold and wet in no way made getting colder and wetter any easier. And I'd swear it started sleeting.

Putting aside the vice-like death grip of the water, it turned into a very pleasant swim. Getting in - and staying in - is harder as the temperature drops. But I'm considering it an exercise in focus and mind over matter. Which leads neatly onto why I'm trying to strengthen my resolve and will-power. I'm signing up for a marathon. A proper one. Something that I've always feared. It's not the distance per se. I know that logically I could potter/walk around 26 odd miles. What's always put me off is the thought of doing 13 miles and realizing I have another 13 to do. I've always feared I'd have a meltdown. This is the psychological mountain I need to climb. And while I'm climbing that psychological mountain, I need to fit in a proper training schedule too.

So, in the words of Franklin D. Roosevelt (who apparently borrowed the sentiment from Sir Francis Bacon), the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. I confess, I had to look that up. I'd always thought it was a quote from Peter Porter's nuclear war poem, Your Attention Please. Turns out the line I'd been misremembering was 'Death is the least we have to fear'. Which is just terrifying.

(Stats: about 2.5 miles in 28.09 minutes - this involved several minutes sitting under a tree in the vain hope the rain would abate and lying on a bench at the top of the heath after wheezing my way up the hill. Swam one lap (200 metres); pond temp: 11.5 degrees celsius.)

(Pic: Just off the train, on my way to the heath.)

Official parkrun time is in

27.28 - so a good half a minute quicker than my stopwatch time. Excellent. This works out at an 8.49 minute/mile. I'm very pleased. I shall be even more pleased if I beat it next week.

A new plan

I've just been for a run on the heath. A 'parkrun' to be precise. It's a free timed 5k that takes place every Saturday morning at 9 am. In fact, they do them all over the country (www.parkrun.com). It has instantly become my favourite thing ever! You rock up. You run. You go home. Then around lunchtime, you discover how fast (or not) you ran it. It's like a race, but without being a race. And because there were enough entrants of differing fitness levels, I felt fairly confident I wouldn't be bringing up the rear a la last year's cross-country.

I decided to employ a slightly different running strategy today. Instead of conserving my energy for the final push, I would just run as fast as I could. And if my body rebelled, then I would slow down. And that's what I did. The course is split into two laps and I was shocked at how quickly I did the first half (12 minutes according to my stopwatch). However, on the second lap the pain kicked in and the final hill was a struggle (to the tree... to another tree...to yet another bloody tree, where's the top of the hill?!). At one point, I found myself neck-and-neck with a fat West Highland Terrier. I finally 'took him' when he stopped to relieve himself on a course marker.

My stopwatch says I did it in around 28 minutes, which means I was considerably slower on the second half. That said, I'll be intrigued to know my official time. I do hope that it's not worse than my stopwatch time. That would make me a bit cross.

It was nice to do something that was like a race, but wasn't competitive (well, not from where I was standing). Everybody was very friendly and one fellow runner even gave me a lift home. Which I very much appreciated as I was shattered. This running fast strategy is very tiring.


(Stats: 5km; stopwatch time: 28 minutes/official time: as yet unknown. I await the results with breath that is bated.)

(Pic: Post-run runners. Apologies for the strange 'treatment'. I took the photo into the sun (I'm no David Bailey) so I had to 'magic it' in iPhoto to clarify the image.)