The Gods weren't smiling on me

Right, I pulled out of the Grunty Fen race last Sunday. This is a grave disappointment to me, but not nearly as bit a one as it would be if I were to have injured myself, hurt for the next 3 weeks, and then not manage the Great Eastern Run.

What happened was this: as I was walking into work on Friday, there was a glimmer of a twinge of pain, right where the injury had been. It happened a couple more times during the day. Not all the time: but more than a tight muscle. I couldn't figure it out: it's not like I did a long, or even particularly "strong" run yesterday. And the swim should have helped. Shouldn't it? The illegal swim, that my coach didn't tell me to do.

But I had two days to recover, right? It'd be fine to run thirteen point one miles on it on Sunday. THIRTEENPOINTONEMILESOHMYGOD. I have so many things in my head to think about this week: there's been new advice on the type of glucose sachets I should use, diet before the race, diet after the race, what to do on the race, my head is swimming. But I've been trying to take it all on board: I ordered the high-five isogel packs on amazon, and got in some fresh pasta. Well, I'll do what I can: I didn't ask Pete and Jenny if they could serve pasta with plain tomato sauce at their wedding breakfast, even if they are vegetarians.

After lunch on Friday, I cracked, and emailed Sal about the twinge. My suggestion was that I monitored progress, and ran really really slowly, and didn't try anything clever like a negative split. She emailed me back. "I think you should drop it. And you weren't down to do a negative split anyway. What do you think?" I'm never sure with these questions if she means, "How does that sound to you?" or "What do you want to do?", because surely my previous email had told her the latter. I tried having a hissy-fit and throwing my toys out of the pram, but not very hard, because it's still Sal we're talking about here. "I'm all psyched-up to run it: I want to run it. I can't deny the irony of the situation - I want to do it." I told her. And it was true, actually. But I think it's the attraction of the beer. She held onto her line. She said, in the sort of reasonable way that my mum would use, "By all means do grunty if you feel you'll be ok, I just think the odds seem against it what with wedding, car and now calf. The only thing it has going for it is Dave...... What do you think?" (That's RSPB Dave, who I said I'd meet afterwards).  There was a definite element of "Would you like to revise your last answer?" She was right. I didn't feel I'd be OK. In fact, the moment I emailed Sal in the first place, I'd basically admitted that I thought my leg should be amputated. Let's face it, I generally don't tell her when there is something that I think would stop me from doing exercise (like a stomach upset) if I actually believe I can do it. So I clearly didn't think it was a good idea.

Interestingly, I honestly thought that she'd written "the Gods seem against it" (hence my title) right up until I pasted the message in here. Which I thought was slightly out of character, but one that appealed to me. Just after I received that message, I was told there was a parcel for me. It turned out to be the glucose gel sacs I'd ordered. Now, usually I'd think that was a sign that things were running smoothly and I should do the race (this is how my mind works), but when I opened them, I found they'd sent me the wrong things. I specifically didn't want the caffeine ones, and that's what I had.

So, Sal was right: I was planning to do a race the day after a wedding reception, without a car, I was potentially going to injure my calf, and I'd got the wrong stuff. The Gods, or the odds, were not in my favour.

I then alerted Sal to the fact that I'd be in hilly Sheffield for three days, and could I capitalise on this at all. Her answer was swift: No. Hill training would be very bad for the damaged muscle. She said I could do 45 minute jog on Sunday, and basically see how it went, then a longer one, on the flat, when I got back to Peterborough on Wednesday. She said "Maybe I've been too hard on you..."

This is completely flying in the face of every preconceived notion I have about Sal. To have a short review, Sal has not been a slave-driver through this process (apart from suggesting hill training and farklets): she has consistently advised to slow down when I've been struggling, she's never once said "why didn't you do that?" (well, she didn't actually need to, I'd already written it here), and actually everything I've done that has pushed me too hard has been my fault: I tried to go faster than I was allowed on Tuesday, I did an extra swim on Thursday, and now I'm begging for hill training. We are potentially very well-matched, if you take on board the old joke "What's the definition of a sadist? - someone who likes to give a masochist a good time".

On further reflection, I'm working on the idea that she might be a misandrist - all these reports of fierce behaviour, they've all come from men... and even though Sal may have realised by now that she is attempting to train a little scientist, who wants to know a full explanation for everything, the comments I've passed back to her from other runners have been met with... contempt... but very much not aimed at me (I'm in the sisterhood). For example, Paul offered to buy my caffeinated glucose sachets off me, and said "They're not banned or anything, and they really do make a difference, but if that's what your coach says..." (he'd witnessed the trouble Nige had got into, you see).

This is what coach said: "Tell Paul if he has to rely on caffeine for a mere half marathon he hasn't trained properly :D No, there's nothing VERY wrong with it but people tend to know nothing about its proper use, period of effect or dosage and randomly take caffeine gels throughout their training and racing. Plus if one uses caffeine during training the body gets used to it and the desired effect on race day doesn't happen. Anyone worth their salt lays off caffeine altogether for a month before competition to feel the full effects of it on race day (which can include a nasty dose of diarrhoea and general lightheadedness!) So there Paul. BLOKES".

Anyway, I made my decision, and was relieved on Saturday because my wedding high heels were hurting my calf muscle already. In fact, someone suggested I dance the ceilidh wearing them, because that way he might not have to pay his sponsorship. I told him Just Giving already had it, which caused some debate on what would happen if I couldn't complete it. One of the more remarkable things about the wedding was that Pete proposed to Jenny in Japan, and she learned there that a Japanese custom is for the lady to make over 1000 origami cranes, while pondering the meaning of marriage. She did - around the 1500 mark, according to her bridesmaids. They were amazing, and I shall post pictures of them as soon as I am able.

On Sunday, I did go to Ely on the train, but not to Grunty Fen. I had a great lunch on the river side with Dave, where we watched rain chucking it down outside, and then braved the elements, which cheered up, and wandered around Ely for the afternoon. It was much more civilised than running 13.1 miles.

I think maybe the Gods were smiling just a little. They know how to show encouragement.