My
marathon training has just peaked with a massive 20 mile run which
took me 3 hours and 6 minutes and it took part mostly to a backdrop
of heavy rain, very heavy rain.
I
started the day sat in front of the T.V. at half five in the morning
eating peanut butter on toast (I hate peanut butter) and flicking
through the channels trying to find that beach volleyball I was
watching the week before (strictly for sporting interest you
understand). An hour later I was stretching on Penwortham Bridge with
my waterproof jacket on having done my slow warm up run.
The
first couple of miles were fine and the rain had slowed so I decided
to take my jacket off and tie it around my waist as I was getting
quite warm. Ten minutes later I was cowering under a tree hastily
getting back into my jacket and feeling the cold. The rain grew
steadily heavier until it was bouncing off the pavement and my feet
were soaked. Soon after the dampness of my feet reached their maximum
level my “waterproof” jacket took early retirement and my soaking
was complete – with only about 12 miles left to run.
The
beauty of early
morning running is
that you often get what would normally be a busy road all to
yourself. I checked around to make sure there were no early morning
dog poo collectors and then I raised my gaze up to the heavens and
shouted at the clouds:
“Come
on!”
“Come
on!”
I
had decided to meet the weather head on and not let it beat me. I was
as wet as I could be and I was as tired as I’d been on a run in a
long time but I was still going, it hadn’t stopped me, and it
wasn’t going to.
In
the last mile before the turn around (I run out
and back)
I had a couple of quick pains down my left calf. The pain was sharp
and quite intense but it came and went in the space of about two
seconds. I stopped and stretched out my calves and temporarily pealed
my t-shirt and jacket away from my body. This seemed to solve the
calf pain which occurred only once more before the end of the run.
The
rest of the run slowly past with the rain alternating between heavy
and heavier. My hips started to ache and neck and shoulders went
through their usual periods of pain before loosening up a bit.
Annoyingly I had to stop to tie my shoe laces a couple of times and
each time I did a mixture of rain and sweat dripped down the inside
of my jacket sleeves and down on to my hands.
I
one point I ran past a house that had a full breakfast on the go. The
smell of bacon cooking made my stomach turn somersaults and the
hunger kicked in. I promised myself that I would have a bacon
sandwich before the weekend was out (which I did).
Eventually
my Garmin beeped for the twentieth time and I slowed my run to a fast
walk. Within seconds I felt the cold and my legs started to stiffen.
I stretched, walked, stretched again and walked again until I was
home. I pealed of my soaked clothing at the doorway and my wife
appeared with a towel and a sympathetic expression. Now for the fun
part of the big run, replacing those lost carbs.
This
was the furthest I have even run and the worst weather I have ever
run in. Although the summer has been really bad I have been quite
lucky when on my weekend long runs and this was the first time I had
ran in heavy rain, and I’m glad I did. When I start my big 26.2 I
can’t choose the weather and should the rain start to pour I know
what to expect and I know I will be able to cope. Someone once told
me that nothing worth doing is easy, I hope they’re right.
No comments:
Post a Comment