Every training plan for a marathon includes a weekly ‘long’ run, usually scheduled for the weekend when in theory you have more time to attempt it. (“attempt”… is that the right verb? Makes it sound like I’m trying to jump the Grand Canyon on a scooter. Then again…) Yesterday was dirty, horrible weather, the worst kind of grey Scottish horizontal rain flung against the windows by angry gusts, so I was quite content to forego the plan’s “15 minutes, very easy” and sit in the house all day working on ‘admin’ stuff for this marathon. Things like…
(i) setting up an on-line fundraising page and trying to write the background story explaining why I’m doing this,
(ii) collating email addresses and attempting to find the right words to ask friends and family to give me some of their hard earned money in sponsorship,
(iii) setting up this new blog and struggling to fill it with all the content that had seemed so effortless when it was flying through my brain during the run to the gym on Thursday evening.
The weather didn’t abate until about 2.30 this afternoon at which point I creaked my way off the chair in front of the computer screen and pulled on my saggy-assed, cotton jogging pants. Glancing at the plan, the description of the Week 1 ‘long’ run says “75 minutes, easy run; take walking breaks if needed”. I was out of the house getting buffeted by the wind and enduring severe back, neck and shin pains for a grand total of 30 minutes. I’ll be lucky if 20 minutes of that could in any way be described as “running”. For the entire week, the plan advocated a total of 195 minutes of running. At a stretch, I managed 80.
Tomorrow, this blog is going to have a chirpy introductory post which will attempt to wear its hat at a jaunty angle and put a brave face on this whole venture. But if you read very carefully between the lines I’m sure you’ll spot the abject terror and catch a whiff of the fear of failure that I very definitely feel this evening.
(i) setting up an on-line fundraising page and trying to write the background story explaining why I’m doing this,
(ii) collating email addresses and attempting to find the right words to ask friends and family to give me some of their hard earned money in sponsorship,
(iii) setting up this new blog and struggling to fill it with all the content that had seemed so effortless when it was flying through my brain during the run to the gym on Thursday evening.
The weather didn’t abate until about 2.30 this afternoon at which point I creaked my way off the chair in front of the computer screen and pulled on my saggy-assed, cotton jogging pants. Glancing at the plan, the description of the Week 1 ‘long’ run says “75 minutes, easy run; take walking breaks if needed”. I was out of the house getting buffeted by the wind and enduring severe back, neck and shin pains for a grand total of 30 minutes. I’ll be lucky if 20 minutes of that could in any way be described as “running”. For the entire week, the plan advocated a total of 195 minutes of running. At a stretch, I managed 80.
Tomorrow, this blog is going to have a chirpy introductory post which will attempt to wear its hat at a jaunty angle and put a brave face on this whole venture. But if you read very carefully between the lines I’m sure you’ll spot the abject terror and catch a whiff of the fear of failure that I very definitely feel this evening.
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