Sunday, 12 June 2011

The long and short of it

According to the training plan, written in pencil, this is “week one” of marathon training. Which means I should be able to run 4 miles this week. I think that’s probably possible as I have done training with the Running School for up to an hour and fun run around the block for about 3 miles. But I am not running 4 miles this week. And it’s not the incessant it-must-be-tennis-season-so-lets-chuck-down-the-rain that’s stopping me, but that I would like a full two weeks of resting these feet:

As you can see by the adjacent image which I hope you’re not viewing over your breakfast (or indeed any meal or snack), the feet are healing remarkably. Gone are the huge blisters filled with liquid of mysterious qualities. Gone are most of the clusters of toadspawn-like bumps. (Who on earth invented this ailment?) But as my hands have flared up in recent days due to a condition I call being allergic to work, I would like to spend another few days smearing my feet in toxic cream burning layers of my epidermis and waiting for the pharmaceutical company to call and tell me I am indeed allergic to cholorcresol. Anyway, I digress. 4 miles lies ahead, as does a plan to do some catch up exercise, which shall involve pilates at home, a session with the wonderful Galina, some strength sessions with Barry and no doubt being dragged around the block whimpering for 4 miles.

Which brings me to the point of this post, if you can call it a point. I hate running 4 miles. 5kms. Anything longer than the run for a bus and under 10km. I’d sooner run 18miles than three. And that also means if I run 18 miles, I hate the first three. I start slow, I stitch, I bitch, I grumble, my foot pronates, then the other, then it suppinates. Then my knee hurts, and my chest, and my breathing is labored. Oh I hate it. And I tell anyone I am running with or passing by or looking at or thinking of. If it’s a short run (see definition above) then I carry on like this till the half way point. Then I realise I am half way home, and I think “I can’t do this anymore, what a stupid dumb arse sport, I am going to die” and it feels like I physically pass through something like hatred and come out the other side gambolling like Bambi and run a negative split fast all the way without so much as a boo and annoy anyone I am running with. Really annoying.

In my first year or marathon training I got around this by running lots of 5km races as they are very exciting and you whinge less than if you were plodding round your local park. I did this through Nike Town Run Club (sure it’s not a race, you tell the girls I race home down the end of Regent St), the England vs Australia vs Rest of the World and a lot of Race for Life, Hydroactive and other charity runs. I built up a good 5km base which I found transferred to a quieter first 5km on long runs. So while I am sitting on my butt watching my feet heal, I am going to surf the web for some great 5km races to give me something mildly exciting to do while I get back into things.


  1. Thanks for visiting my Musings blog and leaving the comment re: Linda at Global Mamas. I checked the page and yes, that's likely her. So cool to see the person behind the merchandise I bought.

    BTW, I don't run at all, but I have a co-worker who does--she and her hubby both have done road marathons but they trail race now, and snowshoe race in the winter. Both are amazing (IMO) athletes.

    If you feeling like checking out her blog, it's at:

    She doesn't post every day, just when she has something she wants to get out there.


  2. Hi Kim
    It's great reading about the women who make the Global Mama stuff. I wish I had more time there to do a class with them.
    Thanks for the link, I am really interested in ultra running so will follow.