My legs have eased off a bit so I've been taking them out for runs. I keep having to stop and stretch though, which maybe isn't ideal for a marathon. It did occur to me today that I could just take a very patient attitude to the coming marathon and let it take as long as it takes. In fact, if I was feeling evil I could collar someone who was working hard at my easy pace and let them know that I wouldn't normally be in this part of the field but because of injury I've had to rein it in. Two marathoners have done this to me in the past and it filled me with love and gratitude. Oh no I forgot, it actually made me hate them.
Anyway, I've been interspersing runs with days off in an effort to be sensible, so yesterday I thought I'd go outside on my bicycle and let the wind take me to Archerfields Walled Garden, because I'd never been there before. Peter had been his 35 miler so he was content to come a little tootle on the bike. Well in theory he was but quite soon it became clear that he actually wasn't all that content. He kept saying things about people being slow and then taking it back.
I didn't tell you I've got a cold too. It came on suddenly and unmistakeably on Friday. Happy days. So PB was pecking my head to some extent but I was in a snotty dream world and didn't care too much what he had to say about the whole thing, or about anything. My eyes were weak and bleary and the sun hurt. I was a little bit impressed with how green the sea was at Portobello, but after that I wasn't impressed by anything. Having a cold has added to quite a long run of not getting much sleep and I'm jaded.
Look my foot doesn't move from this picture
to this one
to this one. No wonder I was going slowly. Lazy Moo.
We got to AWG amd Peter's brittle facade of geniality started to crack in earnest when he saw the prices. On the menu they appeared to be trying to cover up how expensive everything was by being quirky about their pricing. So soup was 5.5, unless you wanted a cheese scone in which case it was an extra 1.65. A burger was 13.5. At something like 2.65 for a cup of tea Peter wasn't having any of it. But I had a cup. And the cheese scone. He had soup and tried to burn holes in the waiters and waitresses with his eyes.
After this he was proposing we cycle back into the freezing head-wind, but I had a better idea and we went to NB and got the train home. "You're paying for it" he said warmly.
Today I had no idea what to expect from my leggies. I went out with a rucksack and some money and a camera so I had some options. If it was going okay I wanted to go further. If it wasn't I wanted to get home. I thought I'd run up the WOL a ways and then make decisions based on how things were.
I stopped at one mile for a stretch. I stopped here the other day as there's a handy tree stump for the hamstrings and a railing for standing quad stretches. I swear that sign wasn't there two days ago. I hope it's not from someone's gusset.
I wasn't feeling great to start with but the general springiness, birds chirping and tiny things pushing their way out the ground began to get to me and cheer me up.
At 2 miles there was another stump and another sign. Do you think all these signs are a sign? Of course they are.
The WOL at the Dean Village was blocked off as usual but it's easy enough to get through. At the far end though I met a wee woman who was putting up a sign and clearly wanted to tell me off for being there. "Can I ask you what you're doing here?"
"I'm out for a run" I said, sticking to the facts.
"Did you notice that the path is closed?"
"The path has been closed for a long time" I said; more an observation than an answer really.
"It's very dangerous along there. The council doesn't just close the path for fun you know."
I chose not to argue.
When I got to the next stretch of the WOL, that was closed too. I guess the council are not having fun along there too. I gave up on the WOL and went up Ravelston Dykes instead and headed for Corstorphine Hill. After a while I found myself overcome with remorse for the way I was treating the council. I thought about all the things they have done for me just to try and make me happy. They've made all those lovely trams and they've made cycling ever so much more interesting with the new cycle lanes on Leith Walk weaving in and out of traffic. Their liberal licencing policy has made it possible for me to listen to drunks shouting and fighting every night, long into the night, when otherwise my nights would probably just be boring and filled with sleep.
Hopefully Jesus will help me to be a better person. Anyway, I haven't been running on any hills because that's what was setting my legs off so I'm happy to say neither going uphill nor downhill was too bad. I went up beside the golf-course and then down to St John's Road and headed for home.
So nearly 10 miles in the bag, which is better. I stopped and stretched a lot and I have no idea if I should really be trying to run a marathon in a couple of weeks or not. I guess I'll wait and see how things go.