Out of action & the Outlaw

After beating myself up following a sloth filled display at the Edinburgh half, I overdid it at the track on Wednesday doing 4 x 200's after a 5 mile warm up. I woke up the next morning to a hamstring injury.  Quite literally a pain in the ass. As it was, I wasn't letting myself off the hook that easily and, on the evening, elected to jog ahead of the group as they did their efforts up on the road to Pigdon. A dog came at me at the top of the hill and I swerved quickly to avoid it as it lunged at me and whatever was a strain became a tear. I winced. It was only a King Charles spaniel on a lead, but they've got teeth just like any other canine. The owner was apologetic as she balanced a glass of red in one hand and a mobile in another. Who needs multi-taskers like that? It was a long 4 mile walk back to base with the group disappearing off over the horizon. Adios.

No more running then for a wee while.

The weekend was booked up some time ago. I was supporting our kid at the Outlaw Half Ironman in Nottingham. She had to be up at 4.30am. I thought that was the first event!

We had to get to the event by 5.30am. It started at 7am. As I was the transport and bike mechanic, I was tucked up at 9pm and as the sun rose we were mixing it with all the wired triathletes and their dozy entourages, as they hung up their bikes and placed their shoes 'just so'. I tell you, there was some kit there. One bike was shinier and more sparkly than the next. I could smell the pound signs. Any roads, as she spent the next 5 hours somewhere in deepest Nottingham, I got out on the lanes in 70 plus temperatures for a steady 35 miles. The place was hoaching with bikies. You couldn't turn a stone over without two or three of the lycra clad blighters crawling out.

A good weekend and needless to say, the glute is still sore and so, this week, it's some proper R&R. Regrettably, that means the Alwinton fell race is out, but I might recover enough to make the line for a jog at the Black Rock on the 13th. Wish me luck.