Well, I managed to turn a lovely morning into running hell again, billy big bollocks thought he would up the pace to try and gain that extra 1mph (see Jogging vs Running) that would make him a runner (as opposed to a jogger). The first 5 minute run wasn’t too bad, I did have to dial it back at the three minute mark and the last 30 seconds was getting a bit testy, but no worries 3 minutes to recover. Recovered in just under 2 minutes, my feet where killing me even more than usual and it took the full 3 minutes for them to stop aching.
On to the 8 minute run and I realised 2 minutes into it, I was struggling, badly! Physically yes I taken a bit more out of my legs than usual, but that wasn’t the problem. Mentally my inner demon’s were wingeing about the fact this was meant to be easy, replaying the lies I had told myself over the weekend about gliding along without effort, now that of course I was a runner.
The realisation came crashing in that last week counted for very little right now, that the remainder of this 8 minute run was going to be as tough as any run I had ever done was in many respects a tougher truth to digest than the epic 20m run on Friday. I was back in the interrogation room and I didn’t even know how I got back here? Worst still that cool breeze was doing little to keep me cool and was in danger of blowing me backwards
There were several points I was going to quit, telling myself “it just wasn’t my day. I could try again tomorrow“, and I came very close to accepting that. More so than any run I’d done to date. The only thing that kept me going was the fact I hadn’t quit any session, so was this really going to be that moment? Or could I hang on just another minute, just another few metres. So metre by metre, one long minute at a time I dug in and just tried to keep going. My pace by this point was as slow as it’s ever been, my form was gone, it just turned into an uncontrolled slog and one I was failing to mentally manage. Instead of focussing on the running I was entertaining all the aches/pain/nausea, it was hopeless!
I managed to get through what I’m convinced is the longest 8 minutes of my life, and I was spent. It took the whole 3 minutes to get my breath back. I’m not sure I had 5 minutes left in me by the time Laura was demanding it, but I new I had at least 2-3 minutes and so I pushed on at a very slow pace. Which is just another lie I tell myself, I know if I can get to within 2 minutes of finishing I’m not going to quit, to fail at the last is the worst kind of failure.
When it was over I was under no illusions that there is never going to be an easy run, and if I don’t treat each one with respect I’m going to end up kicking my own arse. And now I know why week six dials it back, it looks like an anomaly on the progression chart but it’s a safety net to catch the over confident idiots like myself. Another lesson learnt the hard way.
I usually detail the music I find helps when running, today’s run I fancied something a bit upbeat and shoved Rae Sremmurd’s SremmLife 2 album on (yeah I’m down with the kids). I had heard Childish Gambino’s – This is America over the weekend and I thought it sounded a lot like Rae Sremmurd, so I thought I’d review. It’s a great album I can totally relate to it as a middle aged white guy living in the garden of England (that’s irony for those of you wondering), but I must admit even I was struggling to draw any lyrical running inspiration. I suspect i’s probably due to the lack of swangin n****** and bad b****** on the riverside at this time of the morning.
Anyway onwards to the next session and let’s see if I can make this one a little easier on myself.
Run Rating : 
