I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I clearly haven't been doing much jogging recently. But that's where you're wrong. I just haven't been doing much blogging... fortunately, I can clearly remember all the jogging I've done.
You see, I said I'd run 35km every week in June. It was Heather's fault, she dared me to keep up the every day in May thing, through June. I kind of ran out of time. But next week, I'll get on it. I'm proposing to update you a week at a time, you see. So bare with...
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Thursday, 31 May 2012
The last battle
On Saturday, I ran with Christine, along the river towards Ferry Meadows, which was lovely - it was hot, though, we left too late really. In the afternoon I went to the Willow Festival and sunned, as well as buying some sensational clothing at TK Maxx. On Sunday... oh yes, I ran in the evening, I went down along the Parkway and by the river, and passed the remnants of the festival on the Embankment. It was a bit slow and I had a major fail on the way back, where once I had done my 5K I didn't really bother to run the rest of the way. In my defense, however, I wasn't really feeling very right, and had been doing lots of garden fighting. Anyway, I did the distance. That's what counts.
Monday... on Monday, you'd have been proud. I set off, I think it was cooler, it had rained as I arrived home, I believe. I was sure it would set in for the evening, but it didn't, after a roll of thunder, and a heavy shower, it stopped. I set off at a fair crack, but feeling good, not struggling or fighting it. I managed to maintain it all the way round, and ran my fastest time, 29:14. When I got back, I found moustachioed Chris had run in 29:04 and said it felt slow, so I abused him on Facebook. He apologised (bless him) and said something about his legs had just felt heavy. Whatever.
Tuesday, I realised I was stuffed. I had a work meeting in London, and then on to Winchester and Reading for 2 days. There was only one thing for it: I was going to have to go in the morning. I successfully achieved this, and while I didn't get super-speedy for the early start (or anything crazy), I was happy that it was done. I then had a train to catch. Rang the taxi, because I started a bit later than I thought, and had the dodge about whether the taxi would arrive as soon as I called it, or in ten minutes. It came in 10 minutes. I missed the train - and had an advance ticket. I got on the next one. The god of Trains was on my side. The ticket inspector was one of those who race through the carriage and barely pause to see if you lift your head or not. The barrier at Kings Cross let me pass. Woo-hoo!
On Tuesday night I was staying at a colleague's house, and announced my intention to go running in the morning, once again, and they were able to point me in the direction of a good route. It was nice, it was all through green lanes which were tree-lined paths and had an ancient feel to them. I imagined I might have been a goose girl with my flock, driving them along. I got spat out onto a road, which I wasn't expecting, and thought I was lost, but I continued in what I hoped was the right direction, and arrived at the right place eventually. When I got there, it turned out I wasn't lost at all, I just hadn't understood that the last part was on roads.
The next night, I was staying at a hotel on the outskirts of Reading. Once more, I found that the best time to run was going to be in the morning, so I made sure I didn't stay at the bar all night, and in the morning, dragged myself up and put on the only slightly disgusting tracksuit from the previous day. I had looked on google maps for a route, and found one on the roads around where I was staying, with only a faint chance of mishap, as I hoped desperately that a footpath would link up a section which appeared to go through a wood. It did, which was great. The other side was a housing estate with roads made up of bird names, which was rather tragic, when one takes into consideration the adage about Suburbia (where they chop the trees down, and name the roads after them) - especially taking into consideration that I'd seen an area where they were trying to restore Partridge the day before, and we were quite close to some wetlands - when the roads were called Starling Way - leading to Goldcrest Avenue, Chaffinch Avenue, Partridge Way and, last but not least, Bittern Way. Sounds idyllic.
And I had just pegged it down a nice long hill, at a good pace which had taken me into the running for a fast time, when I realised that, owing to having Runkeeper open so I could keep an eye on the map, I'd managed to turn it off (or rather, Pause it) and I hadn't logged my whole distance. I was just shy of three miles anyway, so had to put an extra loop in, and then decided I wanted Runkeeper to say the right distance, so I reran part of the route to put an extra half mile on my distance. You can see this on my map, because I otherwise magically leap the distance.
And that was me, DONE. I finished running 5km every single day in May. I felt quite proud, and definitely that I deserved my breakfast of scrambled eggs on brown toast. So much so that I had a slice of bacon too.
I have to say that I have never washed my kit so much, nor felt it was really so necessary to have three different pairs of tracksuit bottoms and more tops.
And now, onward, with the challenge of how I am going to run 22 miles every week in June. Especially when I'm on holiday for most of the first week... follow this page.
Monday... on Monday, you'd have been proud. I set off, I think it was cooler, it had rained as I arrived home, I believe. I was sure it would set in for the evening, but it didn't, after a roll of thunder, and a heavy shower, it stopped. I set off at a fair crack, but feeling good, not struggling or fighting it. I managed to maintain it all the way round, and ran my fastest time, 29:14. When I got back, I found moustachioed Chris had run in 29:04 and said it felt slow, so I abused him on Facebook. He apologised (bless him) and said something about his legs had just felt heavy. Whatever.
Tuesday, I realised I was stuffed. I had a work meeting in London, and then on to Winchester and Reading for 2 days. There was only one thing for it: I was going to have to go in the morning. I successfully achieved this, and while I didn't get super-speedy for the early start (or anything crazy), I was happy that it was done. I then had a train to catch. Rang the taxi, because I started a bit later than I thought, and had the dodge about whether the taxi would arrive as soon as I called it, or in ten minutes. It came in 10 minutes. I missed the train - and had an advance ticket. I got on the next one. The god of Trains was on my side. The ticket inspector was one of those who race through the carriage and barely pause to see if you lift your head or not. The barrier at Kings Cross let me pass. Woo-hoo!
On Tuesday night I was staying at a colleague's house, and announced my intention to go running in the morning, once again, and they were able to point me in the direction of a good route. It was nice, it was all through green lanes which were tree-lined paths and had an ancient feel to them. I imagined I might have been a goose girl with my flock, driving them along. I got spat out onto a road, which I wasn't expecting, and thought I was lost, but I continued in what I hoped was the right direction, and arrived at the right place eventually. When I got there, it turned out I wasn't lost at all, I just hadn't understood that the last part was on roads.
The next night, I was staying at a hotel on the outskirts of Reading. Once more, I found that the best time to run was going to be in the morning, so I made sure I didn't stay at the bar all night, and in the morning, dragged myself up and put on the only slightly disgusting tracksuit from the previous day. I had looked on google maps for a route, and found one on the roads around where I was staying, with only a faint chance of mishap, as I hoped desperately that a footpath would link up a section which appeared to go through a wood. It did, which was great. The other side was a housing estate with roads made up of bird names, which was rather tragic, when one takes into consideration the adage about Suburbia (where they chop the trees down, and name the roads after them) - especially taking into consideration that I'd seen an area where they were trying to restore Partridge the day before, and we were quite close to some wetlands - when the roads were called Starling Way - leading to Goldcrest Avenue, Chaffinch Avenue, Partridge Way and, last but not least, Bittern Way. Sounds idyllic.
And I had just pegged it down a nice long hill, at a good pace which had taken me into the running for a fast time, when I realised that, owing to having Runkeeper open so I could keep an eye on the map, I'd managed to turn it off (or rather, Pause it) and I hadn't logged my whole distance. I was just shy of three miles anyway, so had to put an extra loop in, and then decided I wanted Runkeeper to say the right distance, so I reran part of the route to put an extra half mile on my distance. You can see this on my map, because I otherwise magically leap the distance.
And that was me, DONE. I finished running 5km every single day in May. I felt quite proud, and definitely that I deserved my breakfast of scrambled eggs on brown toast. So much so that I had a slice of bacon too.
I have to say that I have never washed my kit so much, nor felt it was really so necessary to have three different pairs of tracksuit bottoms and more tops.
And now, onward, with the challenge of how I am going to run 22 miles every week in June. Especially when I'm on holiday for most of the first week... follow this page.
Friday, 25 May 2012
It's a jungle out there
I had a bit of a jungly day today. For a start, I thought I might try getting up before work and getting the run in before the heat started. This, needless to say, didn't happen. The alarm clock went off: I didn't. I did get to work more or less on time; just in time for a killer meeting. It was supposed to be finished by 12:30. It actually finished just before 3. This screwed up my day. I didn't have time to go running, and I didn't have time to go to the bank. This latter was pretty urgent. I also didn't have time to do the several hundred things I was supposed to do, which was slightly annoying - I've got a busy week next week and then I'm ON HOLIDAY! Which means there are some things that need to be done first, excited though I am about this.
But sometimes, there are other things that need to be done. In this case, it was sorting out my bank, which bounced a cheque last week. I had spent 1.5 hours on online banking last night, at the cost of learning my lines, and accomplished nothing. So, i went into the branch feeling somewhat put out. Now, I love my branch. The staff there are always so helpful, I will divulge that, despite it's unpopularity nationally, that the Peterborough branch of RBS are extremely helpful and lovely people. So I was in a quandery, because I didn't want to be unpleasant at them. Sometimes, this works best though: I said as much to the nice young man who was allocated to see me (I've had meetings with him before: he said his wife would like my shoes, so I remember him particularly). I expressed my disgust with online banking, Santander, and various other things that were bothering me, and he absented himself from the room for a few moments. I have reason to believe that I was supposed to ring some cretinous number myself, but by the time he came back, it was all sorted. He won the RBS a stay of execution today.
The whole bank thing took longer than I thought though, and while I'd told the Friday night crew I'd be in the pub after work, by the time I got home and ready to go out, I realised it was going to be after 6 by the time I arrived. I had a plan to take some non-running clothes with me and do my 5k on the way to Charters, but just before I left the house, I texted Ian, and he said he'd be gone by the time I arrived. This made things simpler, as I left the bag of clothes at home. After the beautiful day, it was still hot at 5:30, and I managed to put some music onto my phone, so I set out at a good pace. I ran the route I did on Wednesday, and along the cycle path down to Fengate, I saw a young-ish man ahead of me, in a red sports top. He turned when I came along the route, but as I approached him, he distinctly put his hand down his trousers. I'm not one for staring, so I can't tell you whether he actually exposed himself, and while I was tempted to give him the once over and laugh, or say sarcastically, "that's how it starts you know", I did neither of these things. I increased my speed a bit. Honestly, it's the first time in Peterborough that I've seen what I'd class as a pervert, and he was younger than I'd expected. Apart from the tramp I see from time to time with his trousers half way down his backside. To be honest, he smells so bad, I wouldn't look there either. Ironically, the Magnets were playing "A little bit of something" as I passed him.
Anyway, what with the pervert, and the muzak playing, I kept the (pretty good) pace I'd started out at. I was quite pleased with myself, because I was at DAVE PACE. 9:48. I was so pleased about this, I made a concerted effort to keep it going. There was some difference between Runkeeper and the garmin, and I was suspicious because of the discrepancy the other day. Admittedly, Nic phoned just as I was approaching the pelican crossing and I paused the garmin, but not the runkeeper, so I'm sure that's the explanation.
When I got home, I decided, after a lengthy period of messing about on Facebook, to go and tackle the garden, which is the project for the weekend. It was insane. It wasn't actually waist-high, but it seriously wasn't far off in places. I mowed 1/3 of the grass, and filled the brown bin up. That should give you some idea. I saw my neighbour yesterday morning as I was leaving my house. She actually peered into my house (I'd dashed back in to collect something). She said she missed me, and her mother (who speaks no English whatsoever) also missed me. When I saw the garden tonight, I was seriously surprised that she hadn't reported me as missing, presumed dead, to the police. I posted some pictures on Facebook, and Britta posted a link to "It's a jungle out there".
She wasn't wrong. It certainly is. What with one thing, and another.
But sometimes, there are other things that need to be done. In this case, it was sorting out my bank, which bounced a cheque last week. I had spent 1.5 hours on online banking last night, at the cost of learning my lines, and accomplished nothing. So, i went into the branch feeling somewhat put out. Now, I love my branch. The staff there are always so helpful, I will divulge that, despite it's unpopularity nationally, that the Peterborough branch of RBS are extremely helpful and lovely people. So I was in a quandery, because I didn't want to be unpleasant at them. Sometimes, this works best though: I said as much to the nice young man who was allocated to see me (I've had meetings with him before: he said his wife would like my shoes, so I remember him particularly). I expressed my disgust with online banking, Santander, and various other things that were bothering me, and he absented himself from the room for a few moments. I have reason to believe that I was supposed to ring some cretinous number myself, but by the time he came back, it was all sorted. He won the RBS a stay of execution today.
The whole bank thing took longer than I thought though, and while I'd told the Friday night crew I'd be in the pub after work, by the time I got home and ready to go out, I realised it was going to be after 6 by the time I arrived. I had a plan to take some non-running clothes with me and do my 5k on the way to Charters, but just before I left the house, I texted Ian, and he said he'd be gone by the time I arrived. This made things simpler, as I left the bag of clothes at home. After the beautiful day, it was still hot at 5:30, and I managed to put some music onto my phone, so I set out at a good pace. I ran the route I did on Wednesday, and along the cycle path down to Fengate, I saw a young-ish man ahead of me, in a red sports top. He turned when I came along the route, but as I approached him, he distinctly put his hand down his trousers. I'm not one for staring, so I can't tell you whether he actually exposed himself, and while I was tempted to give him the once over and laugh, or say sarcastically, "that's how it starts you know", I did neither of these things. I increased my speed a bit. Honestly, it's the first time in Peterborough that I've seen what I'd class as a pervert, and he was younger than I'd expected. Apart from the tramp I see from time to time with his trousers half way down his backside. To be honest, he smells so bad, I wouldn't look there either. Ironically, the Magnets were playing "A little bit of something" as I passed him.
Anyway, what with the pervert, and the muzak playing, I kept the (pretty good) pace I'd started out at. I was quite pleased with myself, because I was at DAVE PACE. 9:48. I was so pleased about this, I made a concerted effort to keep it going. There was some difference between Runkeeper and the garmin, and I was suspicious because of the discrepancy the other day. Admittedly, Nic phoned just as I was approaching the pelican crossing and I paused the garmin, but not the runkeeper, so I'm sure that's the explanation.
She wasn't wrong. It certainly is. What with one thing, and another.
Thursday, 24 May 2012
Henry V
Anyway, I realise I left you all in suspense. So sorry. You'll recall on Tuesday that Heather unnecessarily taunted me into a challenge about continuing the challenge all the way through June, and I said I'd tell you my decision. This is clearly ridiculous, and as I have been struggling immensely with the May challenge, it would belittle my effort if I suggested to my sponsors thus far that it would be an easy challenge to continue. I not only don't think it would be an easy challenge to continue, I also think it would be bad for me to continue it. I'm not saying anything against Sally for suggesting it... I'm just saying, my calves could do with a break, and I'm a little worried about my knees. Maybe less barefoot running. Well, I don't know. I still kind of like it. Slowly, slowly, I think. Maybe more walking in the barefoot shoes, I think that would be good. Anyway, the point it, what am I going to do about Heather's gauntlet? I always think, if someone drops a gauntlet, pick it up and give it back. No, really. So what I thought I'd do, never one to ignore a challenge, is this: I'll attempt to continue the challenge by agreeing to do 35km a week. That's the same, right, except I can do long runs and short ones, and miss out days here and there. Right?
OK, so go ahead. Show your support. In the time-honoured fashion. HERE. Heather.
Right, anyway, today. I had to go running in the sun, by myself. Dave had some ridiculous excuse about having done Boxercise the day before, and meetings. It sounded like an excuse to me. As usual, I attempted to go at Dave pace, and ended up at Emma pace. Although interestingly, the Garmin thought I was running 6 minute miles at the start. I can assure you, I wasn't. I'm beginning to think it isn't working terribly well.
And I'll tell you what was weighing on my mind. It's the same thing that you're thinking now. It was about that date. It wasn't that he was unpleasant, he was fine. He was just. Not really what I had in mind. And I haven't told him. And well, no one gets satisfaction out of delivering that blow. Well, no one nice, anyway. I mean, if he was horrible, it might be quite satisfying, but he wasn't horrible, and I am pretty sure he was quite nervous as well... but maybe Jonni was right. When I was telling people at rehearsal how it went, Jonni said, "What WAS that monologue you did at Drama on TAp? I could tell the date wasn't going very well - you were clearly trying to scare him!" OK, I might have gotten a bit shouty.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends.
OK, so go ahead. Show your support. In the time-honoured fashion. HERE. Heather.
Right, anyway, today. I had to go running in the sun, by myself. Dave had some ridiculous excuse about having done Boxercise the day before, and meetings. It sounded like an excuse to me. As usual, I attempted to go at Dave pace, and ended up at Emma pace. Although interestingly, the Garmin thought I was running 6 minute miles at the start. I can assure you, I wasn't. I'm beginning to think it isn't working terribly well.
And I'll tell you what was weighing on my mind. It's the same thing that you're thinking now. It was about that date. It wasn't that he was unpleasant, he was fine. He was just. Not really what I had in mind. And I haven't told him. And well, no one gets satisfaction out of delivering that blow. Well, no one nice, anyway. I mean, if he was horrible, it might be quite satisfying, but he wasn't horrible, and I am pretty sure he was quite nervous as well... but maybe Jonni was right. When I was telling people at rehearsal how it went, Jonni said, "What WAS that monologue you did at Drama on TAp? I could tell the date wasn't going very well - you were clearly trying to scare him!" OK, I might have gotten a bit shouty.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends.
Oscar Wilde
So, Heather, one of my favourite people, said to me today, "Are you doing 5K a day or 5000 words a day?" (with her sharp Irish humour flowing through). "Too long" she said. It's what comes of knowing people with journalistic training. She said that the hardest assignment she had to do was to reduce a story to 300 words, but keep all the facts in. Someone quipped (I think it was Colin) that this must be why The Sun is such a good newspaper. She responded that the Sun journalists are some of the most talented, and it is pretty skillful. But back to me (MEEE) - I told her, misquoting Oscar, that I was too tired to write a shorter blog. I think he famously said "Sorry this is such a long letter, I didn't have time to write a shorter one". This is exactly how I feel. Heather will be horrified to hear that I do actually (usually) read the blog through, and often take out (even more) extraneous pieces of information. Although increasingly I'm just looking at readability.
Anyway, where was I, Wednesday. I'll tell you what happened on Wednesday, it was Pilates, which is brilliant, because my legs are so sore, they needed stretching; and also I told Anita that mum said I needed to lose another half stone for my Ariel costume, and Anita said "Where from?"!! Go Anita! This is the right response. I then went to meet Keith, who said mum was probably right. "Can I just remind you that this is my weight you are talking about?" I told him. "Yes, but I haven't seen you in the outfit, and your mum has, and she's usually right" he said coyly. He always agrees with mum.
I did the run after work, and picked a nice route, as I'm a bit bored with running up Newark Avenue, so I ran along the cycle way at the end of Padolme Road East, and through the new housing estate by the parkway, and down onto the river. It was REALLY warm. But I found Nic's ipod, so I had music again, which was nice, and I ran at almost Dave pace (not really) but nearly sub 30 mins. I still haven't beaten that time on my own. It's shocking really, I am never doing any extra distance on my own.
Then I got ready for my internet date. But anyway, short and sweet, that's what H said. I'd hate to disappoint...
Anyway, where was I, Wednesday. I'll tell you what happened on Wednesday, it was Pilates, which is brilliant, because my legs are so sore, they needed stretching; and also I told Anita that mum said I needed to lose another half stone for my Ariel costume, and Anita said "Where from?"!! Go Anita! This is the right response. I then went to meet Keith, who said mum was probably right. "Can I just remind you that this is my weight you are talking about?" I told him. "Yes, but I haven't seen you in the outfit, and your mum has, and she's usually right" he said coyly. He always agrees with mum.
I did the run after work, and picked a nice route, as I'm a bit bored with running up Newark Avenue, so I ran along the cycle way at the end of Padolme Road East, and through the new housing estate by the parkway, and down onto the river. It was REALLY warm. But I found Nic's ipod, so I had music again, which was nice, and I ran at almost Dave pace (not really) but nearly sub 30 mins. I still haven't beaten that time on my own. It's shocking really, I am never doing any extra distance on my own.
Then I got ready for my internet date. But anyway, short and sweet, that's what H said. I'd hate to disappoint...
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Two for the price of one???
What a cracker of a day! What a lovely day to be in the office... but wait... there's lunchtime, there's running. There's Dave. We decided to go up to the Millenium Bridge. It's a longer run, but what a cracker of a day. Dave said, as usual, that he would go at my pace. For some reason, while my average pace along is about 11 min/mile (I'm working on it...), my average pace with Dave appears to be closer to 9:30. If I hadn't already known that I ran the first half of a half marathon at this pace, I'd have stopped already. I told Dave about Sally blushing because of my comment about our last run being fast and strong. Over half way, I was really tired, and Dave softened and let me slow down to 10 min/miles. After a while, I suggested that if he could carry me part of the way, we could go for "Soft, long and very, very strong" on my next facebook update, but he declined. He clearly hadn't gone soft in the head anyway.
I told him about my internet date, and he said in quite a stern voice that I should "be nice". I'm slightly offended by this. As if I wouldn't be! This was one up on my mother though, who told me not to talk too much. A word about familial support: she also told me that I might try losing half a stone before The Tempest. It was after she'd seen me in the silver catsuit, and not a lot of other people have, though, so perhaps I should listen to her. Well, I'm doing my best with the running. Perhaps not so well on the cake-scoffing though.
The millennium Bridge run is about 7.5 miles, ish. My Garmin said 7.7, Dave's Garmin said 7.5 and my Runkeeper (on the phone) said 7.37. This is nuts. For one thing, the Runkeeper usually over-estimates. For another, Dave and I set our Garmins at the same time, and ran the same distance, and they are the same model. I may never know how far it is. I can tell you it was at least 8 though. And by 5 and a half, I really wanted to stop. Dave was unsympathetic. "Your challenge is to not run any slower: you can't get any slower than this and still be running." This is not true. We were going at 10:30 minute/miles at this point, and that is faster than most of my runs.
"The problem with you is, you fuck with my controller" I told him, which is one form of chat-up line I've previously not tried. Sally told me about the controller. Your mind tells you to slow down when you don't need to. Well, specifically, mine does. Dave's apparently tells him to go faster. Anyway, what you need to do is to over-ride the voices in your head. I did this by trying to keep up with Dave. He agreed, and said I fuck with his controller too, so at least it's mutual. I'm glad that at very least our controllers are getting some action. He said I slow him down, which he views as good, because he can't maintain his usual pace over long distances. Everyone's a winner.
When we came back to the office, the worst possible thing happened. Heather completely undid me. She did this, and it might seriously have been a case of Sally actually taking over her body in a weird Sci-fi way, by challenging me to continue doing the 5K every day in May, into June. Seriously. I'd just said that Sal had said I'd miss running in June. Heather seriously said "Why not? You like a challenge. You could carry on." And the worst thing was, it was a total mindfuck. Sorry about the bad language today, but you know, I've started so I'll finish. Or something.
Get sponsoring, people, and I'll tell you what the deal is.
I told him about my internet date, and he said in quite a stern voice that I should "be nice". I'm slightly offended by this. As if I wouldn't be! This was one up on my mother though, who told me not to talk too much. A word about familial support: she also told me that I might try losing half a stone before The Tempest. It was after she'd seen me in the silver catsuit, and not a lot of other people have, though, so perhaps I should listen to her. Well, I'm doing my best with the running. Perhaps not so well on the cake-scoffing though.
The millennium Bridge run is about 7.5 miles, ish. My Garmin said 7.7, Dave's Garmin said 7.5 and my Runkeeper (on the phone) said 7.37. This is nuts. For one thing, the Runkeeper usually over-estimates. For another, Dave and I set our Garmins at the same time, and ran the same distance, and they are the same model. I may never know how far it is. I can tell you it was at least 8 though. And by 5 and a half, I really wanted to stop. Dave was unsympathetic. "Your challenge is to not run any slower: you can't get any slower than this and still be running." This is not true. We were going at 10:30 minute/miles at this point, and that is faster than most of my runs.
"The problem with you is, you fuck with my controller" I told him, which is one form of chat-up line I've previously not tried. Sally told me about the controller. Your mind tells you to slow down when you don't need to. Well, specifically, mine does. Dave's apparently tells him to go faster. Anyway, what you need to do is to over-ride the voices in your head. I did this by trying to keep up with Dave. He agreed, and said I fuck with his controller too, so at least it's mutual. I'm glad that at very least our controllers are getting some action. He said I slow him down, which he views as good, because he can't maintain his usual pace over long distances. Everyone's a winner.
When we came back to the office, the worst possible thing happened. Heather completely undid me. She did this, and it might seriously have been a case of Sally actually taking over her body in a weird Sci-fi way, by challenging me to continue doing the 5K every day in May, into June. Seriously. I'd just said that Sal had said I'd miss running in June. Heather seriously said "Why not? You like a challenge. You could carry on." And the worst thing was, it was a total mindfuck. Sorry about the bad language today, but you know, I've started so I'll finish. Or something.
Get sponsoring, people, and I'll tell you what the deal is.
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
Cold Sunday and Organised Monday.
What Sunday was mainly notable for, was being cold. As luck would have it, our forthcoming production of The Tempest clashes with the week that the Royal Shakespeare Company are judging the Open Stages productions for their Amateur Dramatics jamboree. They said we could send them a DVD of our play, which for some reason we agreed to do. And who wouldn't think that 20 May would be a good time of year to perform outside. We didn't know it was going to be bitterly cold, did we? Before the filming, I went into town to pick up some hair extensions, and the girl in Claire's Accessories asked if I'd had a good day. I said "It's just about to get better. I'm going to put a silver cat suit on and prance around Central Park". She said "Oh, that'll be fun" without batting an eyelid.
The filming took much longer than anyone thought, we got there at 11, and by 3 we had two injured dancers, one of whom had to go to hospital. We didn't finish till half 6. I sort of felt that we ought to wait for everyone to have finished, although apparently no one else did, so it was just me, the remaining actors and the usual suspects among the Mask people who put away the props.
I felt it best to go home and properly warm up before running because surely, starting exercise while cold is stupid (witness 2 injured dancers). And since I skipped lunch (not deliberately) I also thought having a bowl of pasta would be a good idea. I cooked up a yummy pasta sauce, and deliberately waited a while for some digestion to happen. I was wondering about doing another back-to-back run at midnight, but then remembered a rather brilliant and yet unlikely plan I'd hatched for Monday. I said (I don't know why) that I'd get the car back at 8 am. The drop-off place was Shrewsbury Avenue, downtown, which has got to be about 3 miles away. So, how about that I drop off a bag of clothes at the office, drive the car downtown, already in my running things, and run back?
While I was digesting the pasta, I mapped out the route on Runkeeper. It was only just shy, so a quick detour up the embankment should take it up to 5k. And I fancied that this was more what Sal's website advice had been getting at when she said "try doing one run in the morning and the following one in the evening to space them out a bit" (not one at 11:30pm and one at 12am). Then I went for my Sunday run at about 10. The pasta hadn't digested, even though it seemed hours ago. I was running really slowly, and then my route disintegrated. For some reason, although I did the usual local route, it didn't seem to add up to the same distance. I had to add going around the park to it, although I felt like I'd spent enough time in the park already. I wrote on the Runkeeper comment "When will this month be over?" and, as it got posted onto Facebook, Sal replied "Soon - and then you'll miss it".
However, Monday morning, weirdly, seemed to work. I mean, I was late setting off, and didn't set out until about 8:15, but grumpy Alan on the front desk agreed to look after my bags for me, and even smiled and everything. I had a moment where I thought I'd left my phone at home, and realised I couldn't even go back and get it because I'd just left my housekeys in my bag at work. Then I found I'd already put my phone into my jacket pocket. The panic was because I'm logging the runs with Runkeeper on my phone (as well as the Garmin). Incidentally, it was pointed out to me today by Rich, who really needs a nickname as there are a couple of other possible Rich's about, so could be Poetry Rich, that my blog is sadly deficient in maps. So, if you ever need to follow my route, please be aware that I have added a link at the top right corner (right under the link that says SPONSOR ME) where you can find my route maps. From Runkeeper. You can thus also check that I have done a run every day in May.
The car drop off was a cinch, and as I left I realised that Chris lives near there, and also arrives at work at a similar sort of time to me (late). So I rang her, and she was just leaving her house. She joined my on her bike, and cycled a good part of the way with me, before she professed to being freezing. As I was suffering the reverse (even though I appreciated it was chilly, the run was warming me up nicely) I asked her to take my jacket into work, so that was an added bonus. She told me that she'd met up with Sal at the weekend, who misses us. I miss her too. So does Babs, I can tell.
Finishing the run before work was a novelty! It meant I had the rest of the day free, and got to have lunch with Heather, which was great because I hadn't seen her for so long. And then had a long, relaxing evening stretching to enjoy myself, catch up on some tellie on iplayer, and tidy up a bit. Unfortunately, what actually happened was that I fell asleep on the sofa for two and a half hours. This is what happens when you overdo it.
The filming took much longer than anyone thought, we got there at 11, and by 3 we had two injured dancers, one of whom had to go to hospital. We didn't finish till half 6. I sort of felt that we ought to wait for everyone to have finished, although apparently no one else did, so it was just me, the remaining actors and the usual suspects among the Mask people who put away the props.
I felt it best to go home and properly warm up before running because surely, starting exercise while cold is stupid (witness 2 injured dancers). And since I skipped lunch (not deliberately) I also thought having a bowl of pasta would be a good idea. I cooked up a yummy pasta sauce, and deliberately waited a while for some digestion to happen. I was wondering about doing another back-to-back run at midnight, but then remembered a rather brilliant and yet unlikely plan I'd hatched for Monday. I said (I don't know why) that I'd get the car back at 8 am. The drop-off place was Shrewsbury Avenue, downtown, which has got to be about 3 miles away. So, how about that I drop off a bag of clothes at the office, drive the car downtown, already in my running things, and run back?
While I was digesting the pasta, I mapped out the route on Runkeeper. It was only just shy, so a quick detour up the embankment should take it up to 5k. And I fancied that this was more what Sal's website advice had been getting at when she said "try doing one run in the morning and the following one in the evening to space them out a bit" (not one at 11:30pm and one at 12am). Then I went for my Sunday run at about 10. The pasta hadn't digested, even though it seemed hours ago. I was running really slowly, and then my route disintegrated. For some reason, although I did the usual local route, it didn't seem to add up to the same distance. I had to add going around the park to it, although I felt like I'd spent enough time in the park already. I wrote on the Runkeeper comment "When will this month be over?" and, as it got posted onto Facebook, Sal replied "Soon - and then you'll miss it".
However, Monday morning, weirdly, seemed to work. I mean, I was late setting off, and didn't set out until about 8:15, but grumpy Alan on the front desk agreed to look after my bags for me, and even smiled and everything. I had a moment where I thought I'd left my phone at home, and realised I couldn't even go back and get it because I'd just left my housekeys in my bag at work. Then I found I'd already put my phone into my jacket pocket. The panic was because I'm logging the runs with Runkeeper on my phone (as well as the Garmin). Incidentally, it was pointed out to me today by Rich, who really needs a nickname as there are a couple of other possible Rich's about, so could be Poetry Rich, that my blog is sadly deficient in maps. So, if you ever need to follow my route, please be aware that I have added a link at the top right corner (right under the link that says SPONSOR ME) where you can find my route maps. From Runkeeper. You can thus also check that I have done a run every day in May.
The car drop off was a cinch, and as I left I realised that Chris lives near there, and also arrives at work at a similar sort of time to me (late). So I rang her, and she was just leaving her house. She joined my on her bike, and cycled a good part of the way with me, before she professed to being freezing. As I was suffering the reverse (even though I appreciated it was chilly, the run was warming me up nicely) I asked her to take my jacket into work, so that was an added bonus. She told me that she'd met up with Sal at the weekend, who misses us. I miss her too. So does Babs, I can tell.
Finishing the run before work was a novelty! It meant I had the rest of the day free, and got to have lunch with Heather, which was great because I hadn't seen her for so long. And then had a long, relaxing evening stretching to enjoy myself, catch up on some tellie on iplayer, and tidy up a bit. Unfortunately, what actually happened was that I fell asleep on the sofa for two and a half hours. This is what happens when you overdo it.
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