I’m back from a week of skiing in Bulgaria with my lovely mum. I have to confess that I told Zoe I was doing lots of running on the treadmill, because she was virtuously trundling away following our training plan to the letter. I lied: I actually managed 15 minutes one day, which just about killed me. 6 hours of skiing a day was enough – we were so tired that one night we ready for bed at 8pm.
I had a brainwave yesterday – take the dog out running with me! I’ll be safe, she’ll get a good walk, everyone’s happy. Slight problem:
She’s now been sacked as a training partner – halfway round she stopped dead and refused to move. I could sympathise, having been there myself, but having spent the last half of the run encouraging her to keep going I now know how Katie feels when she runs with me. But the good news is that a week of skiing has made me superfit! For the first time yesterday I actually realised there was a chance I might run the whole 26.2 miles, instead of run walking.
More later. Eek, it’s the end of term. Going to have to lock the children in the shed whilst I go running next week.