Sunday 25 March 2012

Last Long Run

Such a lovely day. Just right for a last long run before the marathon. Hmmm, maybe not though. The spirit wasn't really willing and the flesh was weak. I tried to think if I could squeeze a long run in during the week sometime - but there was no way. I sometimes have time on a Thursday morning and a Friday afternoon - but not this week. I've got a meeting on Thursday morning and I'm doing an extra shift on Friday afternoon and evening.  I dittered around at home for a while until I accepted the inevitable and until it got hotter and hotter outside. It didn't help that "they" had stolen an hour out of my weekend. Why does the hour have to come out of the weekend? Couldn't we each choose which hour we'd like to miss out on? Everybody gets a red card they hand in when they decide they want to go forwards an hour. I would have used mine up during the week.

When I finally got out there it wasn't so bad. It was nice and sunny and there was a  cool breeze coming from the North. The sun had signalled all the Scots to come out of doors. Wearing short denim shorts and tights appears to be a thing at the moment. The prom at Porty was hoaching. I've never seen it like that. And I didn't know if I was at the Pans or Cannes. Okay, that was a lie, made up for comic effect. I knew I was in the Pans. At the Pans my achilles were kind of sore so I stopped and had a calf stretch while keeping a weather eye out for any unwanted attention I might attract by stopping. By Seton Sands I was flagging so bought a can of Red Bull and a Cadbury's caramel out the garage and had a walk break. Around this time Peter came past on his bike, en route to Aberlady and all that. I didn't have much to say for myself. Things were going okay but there was still a good way to go. Keeping walking while I was eating worked well in terms of getting moving again. The Red Bull didn't give me wings but distracted me for a while. There are a couple of miles of off-road from here which give your muscles a change and a break until Aberlady. At Aberlady, feeling like The Fly, I had some tablet and a "refreshing Mango drink" that was also loaded with sugar. Everything was sticky and foul but it kept me going. At least the drink was cold.

After this I had to do some bargaining with myself. There were rumblings of an inner mutiny. "Okay team", I conceded. "Get me to 20 miles running and we can walk every step from there if you want." That seemed to work. I ran about half-way into Dirleton and the Garmin bleeped 20 miles and I stopped and walked. It was a good call. It was turning into a nice evening. A train had not long since left from North Berwick and there wouldn't be another one for an hour so there was no hurry. It was warm enough so's it was pleasant walking along in just a t-shirt and shorts.

Just as I was getting into North Berwick Peter arrived on his bike so we walked into town together and got some snacks and then got the train home. That wasn't the super-positive last long run before the marathon I wanted but then I maybe shouldn't have done a traily 10K yesterday and a beachy 5 miler on Friday. I'm thinking if I can run about 16 miles at some point next weekend that would do...

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