How is it Monday already?

Where did that week go, and why did I still not manage to do any significant running !

The excuse that my training plan doesn’t start until July 1st is wearing a bit fucking thin even with me, but I still seem to be unable to actually get my backside out the front door for any “proper” running. If it sounds like I am belittling the beginners sessions, its not meant to, I just see that as helping not running and therefore in my head, it doesn’t count.

Anyway, this weeks running has consisted of Intervals on Thursday . The place where we were running is a long way from where we meet so I did my usual thing of making my own way there, often I park and run, on this day I parked in the car park right next door and walked up the zigzags and down the other side, it was a beautiful evening so I thought I would enjoy the sunshine. I arrived early so while I was waiting for everyone else to arrive I did run up and down the steps that lead to the peace pagoda, these steps are in 3 sets, with set 1 & 3 being about a step apart and set 2 being slightly different and needing a longer stride length to negotiate them without falling flat on your tits and rebounding into the atmosphere.


I had every intention of working hard, but after 20 minutes of running up and down the steps ( which I didn’t record on strava (so no, it doesn’t actually count) I then headed over to the tree in the middle of the maze where I was told the session would be held ( I cant have got it wrong because Tom also met me there)

I could see Annette ( and everyone else) at the top of the hill, but bollocks was I going all the way up there, its a killer, so I waited under the tree and said to Tom “you run up there and shout me if I need to come up”, yes, I AM getting old and stand no chance of hearing anyone shout from the top of that hill, and even less chance of seeing anyone waving, but Tom didn’t appear to think about that so of he sprinted like a gazelle on the first day of rainy season to see what fun was being had “up top”

Eventually Annette used her “quiet” voice and instructed me to “get my arse up there” or something equally polite. Where I found a couple of ballerinas doing the grapevine.

As fun as all this was, it was eating nicely into the amount of time we had for actual running and I was by now wondering more about my dinner than anything else.

Net result … I ran for a full 3:06 minutes (yes that’s 3 minutes six seconds) before I stopped. I would love to tell you that I did my fastest ever running in those 3 minutes but that would be a porky pie of Pinocchio standards.

On Saturday morning I was a hi-viz hero Marshalling at parkrun

And then off to beginners.

Unfortunately I knew what was on the plan, and no matter how much Annette tried to dress it up, it is the session of hell! Run along the canal side to camphill corner, up and over the steep bridge, up and over the road bridge, up the zigzags and if you still happen to be breathing, round the horseshoe to the start of the maze.

So we reach the maze (20 long and painful minutes of non stop running) and Annette is stood under the tree fucking chatting !!! What’s worse, Simon (self elected tail runner) is stood there fucking chatting with her.

Sue, Helen and I are practically dying and they are stood their chatting. “oi” I said in my politest (most polite) possible voice “are you gonna fucking shout walk any fucking time soon” ….. it’s amazing how much I can still swear when I can barely breath. Apparently she shouted walk at camphill, and everyone had a 2 minute walk break over the bridges. Clearly she was too fucking far ahead because none of us poor bastards at the back heard her.

22 minutes of non stop running !! (Get In there) we had a few minutes to run round the maze, some of the faster runners finish it (we didn’t) before we headed back.

To add to Saturdays fun Annette decided to play “sweet train” where you split into teams and pass sweets back along the line of runners, the one at the back then legs it to the front and passes the sweets back down the line. It’s a good way to teach the speedy bastards how to run slow, and how to encourage slow runners nicely (they have the power to really really slow that sweet train down!)

I didn’t hate Saturday, it was hard work (and shouldn’t have been) but I didn’t hate it.

Perhaps I need to do more 22 minute runs