*The Debatewise Blog
What running has taught me - part 8
Progress. My leg is better; it’s still not right, but it is better. I managed three runs this week, one Wednesday, one Saturday and 16.5 miles yesterday. Although yesterday’s made me realise just how hard the marathon will be.The icing, heating, stretching and rest had all made such a difference I managed to make it down the stairs like normal people do for the first time in four weeks. I also bought a knee brace, new bouncy shoes and stronger anti-inflammatory painkillers and felt fine after Saturday’s four miler.
So typically I decided to push the long Sunday run. I thought if I could do 18 miles I’d be fine for the race. I probably would have made it too had I also not thought I needed to run half the miles at target marathon pace. Not my new target marathon pace, oh no, that’d would be way too sensible. My old target marathon pace. You know, the one I haven’t trained at for a month.
I did the first few miles slow and felt great. I was full of energy, free of pain and thought I could run forever. Seven miles passed easily and I strode on to the canal with the confidence of a Kenyan come down from altitude for the first time. Eight miles, nine miles, here we go…
At first I couldn’t work out why my minute per mile pace kept increasing no matter how much faster I went. Then I realised I was looking at my lap time. Ignoring the twinges in my leg I switched the iPhone to Five Star Dance tunes, turned the volume up and headed towards Ladbroke Grove.
You know you’re in trouble when you can’t make it up the sort of inclines that bridge canals. That and increasingly laboured breathing, more urgent nudges from my leg and ‘what-on-earth-are-you-doing-you-idiot’ looks from Marley. So I slowed down. Back to normal running pace. Back to reality.
It wasn’t enough. Marley looked tired so I dropped him back at the car, changed my shoes and headed back out for the last four miles. I made two and a half. The last little bit, as little as it was, was just too far. Trouble is, I’ve got to run ten miles more in just two week’s time.
Not so long ago I thought the marathon was ages away. Now it’s too close. Two weeks! I’m not ready, don’t feel ready anyway. I know the adrenalin and crowd and crystal meth will surely help. But if anyone knows anyone who can get it pushed back to the end of May there’s a drink in it.
Only one lesson this week really. Don’t be fooled by the first five miles. Oh and I’m not Kenyan.