Monday, 23 July 2018
The heat, the flies....
I've been struggling with the heat and the prolonged hot spell we're having. Probably like a good number of folk, I like a warm day, don't get me wrong. Sometimes a nice couple of sunny weeks is just the ticket. But the watering can is knocking on the door asking for Sanctuary and I find myself closing the curtains at mid-day in the absence of my Mediterranean shutters. Someone cheery in a flowery dress on the news this morning was pointing to a number that was over 30. FFs.
The running has been going steady and last Monday I ventured out with the club for a session. Panning myself around a 9 mile circuit, however, does not really fit in with the new short distance specialist image I am trying to cultivate. It took me 2 days to recover from said exertion. Instead, I have been dropping down to 4 mile steady sessions, the intensity of which are dictated by how I feel after a mile or so (usually hot).
It was the Sunderland 5k ten days ago with its ski slope start, a faster 5k course you'd be hard pushed to find. I was in the first race and aiming to beat my Vicky Park Parkrun time in March of 18:45. Around 150 vets and ladies galloped down the wooded lane and then settled into a grumpy trample around the flat 2km circuit around yon big pond. It was pretty bloomin hot and after passing Holt and Bennett Jnr, I tried to make some impression on training buddy Walker, but I ran out of juice and commitment in the last kilometre and was presented with a slice of summary justice when the Holt Bennett tandem came passed me and continued to move away ahead. I nevertheless careered onto the finish like the frothing racehorse loon that I am and delivered a halogenetic 18:36 which took, as they say, every bit of my sinew to deliver.
This weeks been steady with only 22 miles on the road and 45 on the bike, not forgetting, of course a weekly trip to the dojo. I have been the toast of the house however for my splendid efforts in clearing out the garage which has never been a happy place and has been a tipping ground for memorabilia and such like for many years. As I sifted through the detritus and debris I found a small group of lost soldiers. They were reclining in the undergrowth there having a smoke. Thankfully, they had no ammo left. I always thought I could hear voices at night below the bedroom floor.
I think I've been booked into a couple of half marathons later this year by Mrs Mac. She can barely find the energy to run after long shifts at work, but it doesn't stop her getting carried away on these new fangled websites for the lycra endowed. I should break the news of my new short distance image to her soon.
I have checked the forecast for today....pheeuw, more of the same. Is that the watering can I can hear again at the door...!?