Today was a four mile run. It was also a long day. I know, I know, all my days are long. I'm reminded of a comedian at the Fringe who said "You know when people are going through counseling, or something, and they say 'I'm just taking it one day at a time...'? Yeah, well so is everyone. That's how time works!" I kind of liked that. I feel like I could get one over on people if I could just learn to run two days concurrently though. That would be great, I would achieve SO much more. (Sleep, mainly).
I had an early start today, for a 7:45 train to York. It started off badly, when I couldn't find my suit. Suddenly remembered I'd had it in North Wales, and it was still in a heap of waiting-to-be-rearranged clothes. Fortunately Jaeger, who make great suits, seemed to have chosen a fabric that didn't need ironing, there's lucky. Frank tried to get onto my knee, an automatic response to my putting on a black suit, but also in an attempt to eat my cereal. He has a sort of determined expression that suggests he thinks he has every right to do this. And yet, amazingly, I still had enough time to walk to the station.
My meeting in York was interesting, and more so because I met another runner! These people are everywhere! This is perhaps less surprising than scuba divers being everywhere. I took up scuba, oh, 5 years ago - and the most unlikely people turn out to dive. Running - meh. Who really cares? Lots of people can run. I was going to say, it's not like you need any special skills or training, but this probably explains why so many people injure themselves doing it. I expect there are some stats somewhere that illustrate how dangerous it is (broken pelvises and all). Anyway, in answer to the previous question about who cares?, Jake does. Because his doctor told him not to, so now he's running a million marathons back to back. Not a million. And not really back to back either, he's running a marathon this weekend, then a half-marathon, a full one, and another half. I think he said he came to a settlement with his doctor of 10 marathons (he's a lawyer, that's how their minds work - I don't know if the settlement included 10 runs, or 10 full marathons, divided up how Jake sees fit - the doctor should have tied him down to specifics). I invited him to do the Great Eastern with me, but he thinks he's busy. I briefly quizzed him on his training, and I think he needs Sally's help, to be honest. No hills, no pace, no farklets, no swimming... he knew what they all were, though (well, OK, some of them are more obvious... lots of people know what swimming is). I have to say, if I were doing just the running, I'd have died of boredom by now.
So another thing I gleaned recently from "banter" with the runners was "negative splits". I read on the internet that this is a massive misnomer, and I was pleased to read that, because it made no sense to me. The idea, which has been fluttering around (I mean I'd already picked it up, but don't remember how, but I think Sally's massive training plan in all likelihood contains it) is that you run the second half of the race faster than the first half. It shows you're in control, and that you are pacing yourself properly, and it means, if you do it right, that you end the race fast, which is good psychologically. Another website also said that it actually takes a surprisingly long time to warm up, so this really helps as well. Also that on normal running days, you're happier to do this because you just plod along and warm up, but on race days, you're chock-full of adrenalin, and 500 other runners belt past you and you want to catch them up, so it takes massive control to reign in and slow up, but is pretty important because of your total amount of energy and the need to get yourself round the race! Still, stupid name. Negative splits are good, but positive splits (the first half is faster) are bad. Huh? Jake also knew about this, but hadn't really taken it on board yet. I'm gonna do it on Sunday. My estimated time will be 2 hours 30.
Oh, Sunday! I got my email informing me about the race, and you won't believe it! This is a race that (allegedly) serves beer on the course (I'm going to be so disappointed if they don't), and their rules stipulate that you can't run if you have drunken heavily in the last 24 hours! Have they never heard of "hair of the dog"? What is going on here, are the organisers reading my blog or something, and know that I am coming straight from a wedding?
Anyway, I digress from today's training. I thought I'd get back from York a little earlier that 5:30, but what with cross-examining Jake on the finer points of the Agricultural Pests Act (and his training) I got a four oclock train. I'd wanted to get back at five, so I could get my running in, and then, as according to a plan, go swimming with Maggie at 5:30. I've been trying to encourage her to a bit of gentle exercise, but mostly I ask her to go, and then realise I can't make it. To be honest, I never really thought it through because I'd never have fitted the run in, unless I'd bunked off the afternoon completely. So I was determined to get her out, and got home as soon as I could, fed the beast, and got rid of the suit. Hey, I was only an hour out! The plan (my plan, anyway - one of the less well-thought-through ones) was that I'd give Maggie my swimming stuff at 6, go for a circuit around Fengate, and then meet her there at half past. Only, (1) I didn't map it, so it turned out not to be four miles - 3.12 (2) I didn't give myself enough time to do it, and (3) I forgot to bring my phone. I didn't really give Maggie any contingency, nor did I say where I'd meet her. Crucially to this, as it turned out, nor did I tell her that she had my wallet in the bag.
So I trooped off, jogging around the same old route, realising that I wasn't going to be on time, and hoping that Maggie wasn't going to (a) find the pool was shut or (b) get into a bad mood that I kept her waiting. I'm not sure whether a big lunch, or general panic caused this, but I got a stitch, literally for the first time since I started running, just before I arrived. It wasn't bad, so I ran through it. Maggie wasn't waiting in reception, so I sat down for a few minutes. Then realised that she MUST have already got here, although she had no way to tell me if she wasn't coming as I was phoneless. She wouldn't wait all the way in the carpark, and I could see outside. After a moment's hesitation, I decided to ask reception if she had left my bag there and gone upstairs. The man's face showed momentary confusion at my question, and then cracked into a smile. "Oh, a lady just asked if there was anyone who'd just gone up in a tracksuit" he told me, then grinned "I had to tell her it was a leisure centre!" She had taken my bag up with her, but the man was ready to believe my story that she had me leisure card in it, and let me up.
The pool was nothing short of a nightmare, full up of people randomly stopping, chopping, kicking, screaming, all the rest. Oh and two blokes scratching themselves. Do they not realise people with goggles can see under water? I didn't let it deter me, and swam my 40 lengths in a few minutes over the time Maggie got in her 20; so we both acheived our aim.
I reckon that the extra pool session must make up for the failure of that .88 mile? I'd call that a positive split!
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