I wasn’t going to run today because I’m tired and I still feel grim. Then I saw a friend running past my house and I remembered that I have a marathon in just over seven months. (Seven months! Argh!)
Those of you allergic to boring details, skip this paragraph. I ran as follows: Run 1m, Walk 1m, Run 2m, Walk 1, Run 1m30s, Walk 1m, Run 1m, Walk 1m, Run 1m, collapse in sweating heap whilst walking for several minutes, Run 1m30s, cool down. For run, read jog at a really pathetic snail’s speed, but I’ve set the treadmill at 1% and I’m planning to put it up to 2% next. The back of my calves was a bit achey, so I’m hoping that was because of the virtually non-existent gradient. I’d like to say how far I ran, but being a bit of an airhead I forgot to check before I turned the treadmill off. It was probably a mile. Only 25.2 more of them, as Zoe likes to tell me on a regular basis. She’s doing really well on her training. I’d like to say that sibling rivalry is spurring me on, but instead I’m wondering if I could wear rollerskates and she could tow me along.
Oh dear. I am a bit of a mid-afternoon slump person, and that combined with being a bit tired from running has left me inarticulate and needing to have a little snooze on the couch. Can you just imagine something entertaining here, whilst I have a little sleep? Zzzzz.