All The Ps

Another week in the bank, one littered with errors. I’m hoping the bad dress rehearsal superstition also applies to marathon training. It does feel a little theatrical at times. However the beautiful, and unseasonal weather we are having right now has certainly helped take the edge of it.

Week 9

  • Monday – 3.6 recovery miles
  • Tuesday – 7.9 Miles Interval session
  • Wednesday – 2.6 Easy Miles + Strength Training
  • Thursday – 18.2 Miles Long Run
  • Friday – REST DAY
  • Saturday – Missed run – REST DAY
  • Sunday Brighton Half Marathon

Total Miles – 45.7 (If you have a little OCD like I normally do when it comes to rounding up to whole miles, I apologise. This looks messy)

The week began with a speed session interrupted by a hypo (low blood sugar) Fortunately these don’t appear too often now, I seem to have mostly gotten to grips with controlling my sugars and running. (If you are a type 1 diabetic looking for some tips, check out an earlier blog post Type 1 Diabetes and Long Runs But this is Diabetes. It doesn’t always like to play ball, and sometimes a spanner can be thrown into the works, just because.

Thursday saw another attempt at a 20 mile long run. I decided to try somewhere new to try and keep things interesting. It was a lovely route, 10 miles out and 10 back along the Gloucester to Sharpness canal. Again, beautiful weather, everything was set up perfect to get at least one decent long run in. It wasn’t to be. This time tummy gate. I’ll talk openly about it, because lets face it, if you are here, reading this blog you are more than likely a runner, and have more than likely encountered this problem at least one time or another. If you haven’t, consider yourself very, very fortunate. Around 7 miles in my stomach started cramping up. I hadn’t done anything different to normal. As I tried to continue running along, I prayed it was a bit of trapped wind, alas releasing hurricane kellogs did nothing to help. The cramps got worse, until the inevitable happened. The alarm went off, and I had around 10 seconds max to find somewhere discreet. I will add, that discreet poo stops were far and few between along an open canal route. It is amazing, how inventive one can be when it really is an emergency dash. Did you know you can almost make it look like you are just taking a breather and pausing for thought whilst crouching with your ass in a thorn bush. I think I carried it off anyway. So poo gate ruined this one. It didn’t get better, just much worse. I don’t know how I managed to get back (and to 18 miles) without shitting myself.

Anyway time to move on from that. Time to look forward to the first race of the year, Brighton half marathon. Saturday preparation for the half was far from ideal, but I was still excited to get to Brighton and give it a good bash, see where I am at. A good bash I gave it, and chucked every rule book out of the window. I ran like a knob. I dashed off, running the first half mile quicker than my 5k pace. What on earth was I doing. I slowed a little, giving myself a good talking to. I then slowed more, and more and more. I pretty much POSITIVE split the whole race. I literally ruined any chance of running a good race in that first mile. I know I was keen to have a go at it, but that was just stupid. Even as I was out there running, the 5 Ps were whirling around in my head (Proper Pacing Prevents Poor Performance) in fact even the old army adage of 7 Ps might have been apt (Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance) even the fact that I had been told only a few hours earlier, go out, run the first few miles easy, then pick it up. I have to say, it was lucky it was such a beautiful day, a lovely route with lots of support, and an overall wonderful race. Because without that, I think it would of just been miserable. Lots of distractions meant I actually enjoyed the race despite the above. A well earned ice cream on the beach was also worth it.

 As with every other week, lots to take on board. Still trying to work out what gives me a tummy flare sporadically, and I really do need to work on pacing. And planning. And preparing. And not being piss poor.

Have a great week!


3 thoughts on “All The Ps

  1. Nothing worse than “poogate” controversies mid run. My last one was during the Berlin Marathon three years back. Decided to be really cocky the night before and strutted out of a local Indian Restaurant with a curry and a few beers inside myself.
    “Yeah, I’ve got this” he thinks.
    Fast forward to mile 16 the following morning, I’m in a Berlin Ice Cream Parlour. All of the German language practice I’d undertaken the weeks before abandoned me. I just ended up jumping up and down, on the spot, in the middle of a busy cafe, holding my back side, thinking of what to say and all that escaped from my lips was the word “pooooo”. Hurriedly somebody pointed at a door behind the counter.
    Never again….. Lesson learned.
    One thing I always do now though is carry a pack of tissues…. because… well, you never know.

    Like

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