By which I mean...we skipped the long run today because I'm going to do one on Friday anyway. My legs were stiff and achy and my mouth was a little dry from drinking wine last night.
We settled on driving to Gullane and going for a traily 8 miler in the windy weather. All the while I was having fantasies about food. I wanted bacon and melted brie. I wanted cake. I wanted haggis and turnips in a baked potato. It was impossible to get any kind of speed out of myself and I realised I was settling back into my old ways. No speed training at all and food as a reward wherever I go. However there was no way I was leaving Gullane without a visit to Falko's. No cheese and sausage tongues left so we had pretzels and Peter had a raspberry tart and I had some kind of extravagant danish pastry with glazed fruit on the top. It did the trick though and we stopped arguing and there was peace in the car.
A day off is in order tomorrow and then maybe shorter, faster stuff until Friday when my next long run is due. In a fit of enthusiasm we've signed up for the new Glen Ogle 33 mile race in November. There's something about this long run business that keeps calling you back. Maybe its the amount you can eat afterwards.
Next Sunday will probably be a horrible shock at the Stirling 10K but lets be positive. All I ask is a season's best, which is about 46.20ish. Possible? I dunno. Then the week after that is the 2 Breweries race. I'm afraid that my hill-running legs keep using up all the protein making my quads extra big and then there's nothing left for my speed running muscles. Wherever they are...I'm toying with the idea of going back to Tuesday night intervals, especially since I'm not going to be able to make club nights for quite some while. Can I put myself through that?
No comments:
Post a Comment