I'd offered to do a bank shift with the home intensive treatment team from 1-9pm on the 2nd December before I remembered about the Marcothon....and I already had regular work up at the IUD clinic from 8.30 - 12.30 lined up. When, earlier in the week, I took a long look at today I realised that it just wasn't sensible - would I take a day off the Marcothon and make it up later? When the hell was I going to fit a run in? Early risers might have thought they'd fit it in before the day started but I'm no early riser and since I work with people this just didn't seem fair. I'd be knackered all day. So I decided since it was just this once what I'd do when I got home at around 9.30pm was have a quick turn around - be out the door in running gear before I had time to think and knock out my three Marcothon miles.
I ruined my short night's sleep by dreaming about it - I kept thinking I'd done the first job and was onto the 2nd and had only the last bit to do - then wake up to find it wasn't true.
When the alarm went off it seemed like a cruel joke. I was impressed to see Amanda who was in Barcelona had already done her run and posted a photo on facebook - and it was already light down there! - unlike here.
I've got in the habit of leaving late for work and then trying to make up time en route, which isn't good. It means swearing at people unnecessarily. And there's something up with my gears so I can't put too much pressure on the pedals when I'm setting off from a standstill which makes for a slow tentative take off. Yeah I know I should DO something about this....The last bit of my short commute is complicated by all the Chelsea Tractors dropping off kids to a posh school. Is it the chip on my shoulder or does their sense of entitlement allow them to park anywhere, drive anytime they feel like it, use cycle lanes, clog up the roads?
It means time is of the essence as I arrive at work and take the stairs in twos to throw on my uniform and be out on the floor by 8.30am. There are some snags...some people turn up late, then there are complications, there is no receptionist...for a while it gets a bit hectic - then a couple of people don't turn up and we catch right back up with ourselves. I'm all ready to go well on time. Its a quick change back out of the uniform - onto my bike and across town to where I'm going to be - a community psychiatric nurse for the day - wearing civilian dress - with a different ID badge, working at a different grade. Its very, very busy and there's a lot to get my head around so we kind of hit the ground running. We have to drive all over town, (in a Corsa) in the Friday rush-hour and beyond, to addresses unknown...trying to read the map on the go in the dark without getting car sick. There really is too much to do and we only start handing over to the night shift just before 9pm. So by 9.30pm I'm phoning Peter to say I'm still alive and just cycling home now, through the drunken Friday night city.
So by about 10.20pm we're heading out for our run. Its quite windy and there's a half moon out. People are drunk but the mood is friendly. Nobody gives us any hassle as we run through Friday night Leith and catch up on the day. I haven't seen Peter since yesterday after all although I think I heard him snoring through the night...
It takes a bit of thought to even think of a 3 mile route as we never run so little - but then an old route pops into my head. One I used to do back around c.1998 when our main thing was climbing and I ran just enough to stay fit. It starts to rain quite hard while we're out. A hard, cold rain - but we're not bothered. It is surreal to be out really anyway - so what's a bit of rain - and we will soon be home. So day 2 of the Marcothon is completed, - and I don't really expect any of the other days to be any harder or require more determination. And it was actually quite good fun in the end. My transitions were pretty good, which is one of the main things in triathlon....
Looking forwards to not having to get up tomorrow (this) morning.