This morning's lesson was flexibility. And I don't mean I spent it with my leg wrapped around my neck.
Last night, I laid out my P.E. kit ready for a nice little 7 am run today. This went right up the Swannee when I didn't wake up till 7.20. Now I didn't have enough time for my planned 45-minute outing before work.
After 10 minutes of fannying about, I decided to go anyway. My self-appointed marathon coach has been waxing lyrical about the benefits of sprint training. I would put this to the test.
For 15 minutes this morning, I ran up and down the road outside my house. One gentle jog, one proper sprint. It was quite a good distance for a 30-second dash. Enough that I certainly wanted to lie down and have a bit of a cry afterwards. I finished off the 'session' with a speedy lap of the nearby streets, even managing to bellow 'Good Morning' to a friend of mine preparing to open her lovely little coffee shop.
Who knows whether this will help much, but it has to be more beneficial than lying in bed watching breakfast TV. Surely?
(Stats: Not timed, but three sprints up and down the road, three gentle runs up and down the road, and one lap of my immediate neighbourhood.)
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