So, after yesterday’s antics with the cross-trainer, I felt I could do with hitting the road again. Plan A – hitting the streets at 7am after taking Sarah to work – was over before it had begun, seeing as my stomach was rumbling for a decent breakfast. I’m still not convinced that a body can really just wake up and run.
It took a fully digested mid-morning brunch of scrambled eggs and unbuttered toast – just about the healthiest thing I’ve eaten for a month – to convince my body it should go outside. The day was gorgeous – a proper summer’s day, and the first I had considered going out to run in. Up until this point, I have run in cloudy, cool conditions. I assumed, with the addition of a cool pair of sunglasses to my 90% Nike ensemble, I would do just fine.
I hit the Nike+ website once again to plot out a new route, this time with a more tactical approach. The problem with my local area, as I have banged on about repeatedly in my previous posts, is these damned hills all around me. So, I managed to plot out a rather convincingly flat 10km circuit, from my doorstep, and ultimately to the foot of the final, evil bank next to home. This, I postulated, would go easy on my knee, and give me as good a chance as any of setting my first 10km benchmark.
The circuit lead me into Silverdale, and by the time I reached the “entrance” to the village – after about 3.5km – the sun had officially destroyed my motivation. The sunglasses, it emerged, did very little to tackle the heat and the onset of dehydration. Who knew?
Anyway, a quick text to my parent’s confirmed they were home, and within a few minutes I was sat on their patio with a cool glass of orange squash, followed by a rejuvenating Cornetto. Despite being fully recharged, the sun still hung high in the sky, and I decided to accept a ride home.
My Nike App clocked me at 3.5km, after I accidentally tripped it when texting, but it was actually 4.5km. Not like that makes much difference. It wasn’t 10km anyway.
I felt somewhat glum for the rest of the day, not bothering to shower or get changed out of my kit whilst I made lunch and got to grips with some studying. By the time evening came around, about 8pm, I realised that the world seemed a lot cooler. So, before I had chance to really think about it, I slipped my trainers back on and headed back out the door for Round 2.
I had not planned for anything grand, but I must say I did manage to cheer myself up – 1.75km in 11 minutes, without stopping my jogging pace throughout. My Nike App told me afterwards that my pace wavered dramatically between a 3min/km and a 7min/km, but I didn’t care. I had ran for 11 minutes, and I only stopped because I reached base camp of Mt Hartshill.
Although – bad news – my knee played up yet again. But let’s not get bogged down in the negative right now…
Epiphany time. I wasn’t limited to a maximum of 3 minutes of running as my interval training programme was suggesting. Even though it was exhausting me, interval training was working me out in a completely different way than a long run could or would. Interval training is designed to slow you down when you can run on, just to mess with your cardio system and make you work even harder the next time it gets you to run.
I’m now genuinely interested in how far I can run without collapsing in a heap of Nike outlet gear and sweat. So my next run, on my new level-grade test circuit, will be without “Woman” instructing me. So, we’ll see what happens…