Mr blue sky

Hoorah! The sun has finally got his hat on. An excellent excuse for a run.

As one of the first of the new year, and in the spirit of investigation, I decided to try out the 'sprint for 30 seconds, jog for four minutes technique'. Good interval training, apparently. And brilliant - if you live where people do not.

I'm not exactly Usain Bolt but I didn't feel comfortable careering at speed towards the many pedestrians on the busy London pavements. I tried running in the road, but after having to commando roll to evade a speeding Mini, a gentle pace back on the pavement was infinitely preferable.

Fortunately, part two of my exercise weekend more than compensated for the abandoned sprint training. I'm still dipping my toe into the squash world and today involved the Sunday social. Basically, you rock up and play everyone else, irrespective of experience. One of the guys I encountered had me running around like a dog chasing a stick. It was great. And by far the best interval training I've had in ages. It also more than justified the gargantuan Sunday roast I consumed this afternoon. And the chocolates. And the wine.

(Stats: 4.34 miles; 43.14 minutes; 9.57 minute/mile.)


Pic: January sunshine over Brondesbury cricket, tennis and squash club.

Bringing up the rear

Turns out squash fit and run fit are two different things. For the past two months, I've been having squash lessons and playing at least once a week. Running has taken a back seat. Today I returned to the parkrun with the misguided belief all this 'interval training' on the court would set me in good stead. I was wrong. Every step was like mile 22 of the marathon. Good to run on the heath though - and nice to see Bill Oddie out and about.

(Stats: 5k (3.1ish miles); time tbc, but unlikely to be within a sniff of a pb.)

(Pic: Too tired to walk home so got my chauffeur to pick me up.)

Enjoyably hard (or hardly enjoyable)?

Eeurghh.... that's the noise I made on Saturday morning. A lot. I returned to Hampstead Heath parkrun and my fitness levels are officially at a new low. The whole thing was agony and I recorded my worst time ever. Ever. Worse than my scratch time. I'm not even back to square one, I'm back to the square before the square before square one. Time for bullets to be bitten!

On a recent trip to Centerparcs, I was reminded how much fun it is to 'do sport'. To whit, I start a beginner's squash course next Wednesday. 'Beginner' is a little disingenuous. I used to play every Saturday morning (when I was 13) so I'm hoping there's a residual knowledge I can build on. Rather disconcertingly, I recall there was a dangerously high rate of collapse at the club in 'old people'. I'm hyper-aware that, to my 13-year-old self, I am now 'old people'. Maybe I should wear a heart rate monitor?

Anyway, I'm hoping that a new sport will help me find my fitness mojo, which is currently missing in action. I think I may have lost it around mile 21 of the Brighton marathon. If anyone's by the south coast and they spot it, please return to NW6.

(Stats: 3.1 miles; 28.40; 9.14 minute/mile.)