Splish Splosh Splash

30 minutes of swimming (slowly)

7 days without caffeine of alcohol (smug)

Mr Runner is a member of Fancy Pants Gym. This morning I snuck in to Fancy Pants Gym with him on a 1 day trial pass and did a bit of swimming to mix up the running, followed by 15 minutes in the sauna to help my achy legs.

I have always been pretty rubbish at swimming, but I enjoyed my slow paddle this morning. It was made more entertaining by watching a middle aged mad, who looked very like Mr Fawlty, complete with tiny moustache, doing tai-chi at the poolside in teeny tiny swimming trunks. 

So I actually made it out for my long run today!

Miles I was supposed to run: 12

Miles I actually ran: 11ish

Days without caffeine or alcohol: 6

Went for a long run this morning. I joined a few people from my running club who were also training for races and needed to go for longer runs. We all split off after a few miles as everyone was going at different paces, and I found a couple of blokes who were going at the same distance and pace as me. 

It was all going fine until the last 1/2 a mile, when I was pretty sure my legs were going to fall off. I told the guys to go ahead, I knew where I was going and I would meet them at the end. When they noticed I was no longer behind them as they reached the top of a hill and turned around a corned, they stopped, turned back to find me, and stood at the top of the hill calling my name. I, however, was crawling up the hill, wondering if I could just stop for a nap under a bush for a bit, and slightly embarrassed that they had had to come look for me. It was very sweet though, and nice to know they weren't going to let me get lost in the depths of the common by myself :). 

Rio here I come...

Miles I was supposed to run: 8 

Miles I actually ran: 8

Days without caffeine or alcohol: 4 (super smug)

Yesterday I caught up with the men's Olympic Marathon, and so inspired by this I went out in 28 degrees to run today's designated 8 miles. I figured if they could run in Rio, I could run in London. 

I did not realise it was possible to sweat that much. 

I think all the liquid I consumed throughout the day, came back out my pores. 

On the plus side, if I can manage in these conditions. Amsterdam in October should be a breeze? 

Feelin' Hot Hot Hot

I walked to the post office this evening and nearly melted, so decided running was not an option. I am currently writing this while enjoying a cooling ice cream. Here are yesterday's efforts though. I was too grumpy to write anything last night. 

Miles I was supposed to run: 10 x 800m sprints

Miles I actually ran: 7 x 800m sprints

Days without caffeine or alcohol: 2

I hate everyone. My head hurts. 

I did wonder whether I should send a mass warning email around work so everyone knew to STAY AWAY. 

I then fell asleep on the sofa for half an hour when I got in. Starting to feel that actually I NEED all of this caffeine and trying to stop was a stupid idea. 

I felt slightly chirpier after my nap and dragged myself out to hill training. This was definitely a clever idea. As soon as I started running, my head cleared and I felt a lot better.

Until I got home. When my head started pounding again. 

Onwards and upwards. I hope things can only get better from here! 

Back on the waggon

Miles I was supposed to run: 3

Miles I actually ran: 3

Days with no caffeine or alcohol: 1

Ok. Been a bit crap at training. Missed my long run on Sunday because I managed to get really drunk at the Lion King, and couldn't get up on Sunday morning. 

Whilst feeling a little bit hungover and guilty on Sunday afternoon I noticed an advert in the tube suggesting people give up caffeine, alcohol and fizzy drinks for 10 days to raise money for the RNLI. This looked like a challenge, and one a guilty, hungover, me felt I should participate in. I'm not raising money, I just want to see if I can do it...without murdering anyone. 

So 3 miles and 1 day in, I'm feeling surprisingly fine. 

This might be because I chugged as much caffeine as possible yesterday to saturate my system. 

I may also be replacing caffeine with sugar. That's not against the rules though...

Roll on tomorrow! 

Don't go speed training on a full stomach

Miles I was supposed to run: 12 x 400m sprints

Miles I actually ran: 10 x 400m sprints

It was a lovely evening this evening for a run, not too hot, not too cold, sunny with a gentle cool breeze. Plus I had enjoyed a rather tasty pre-run dinner of lamb meatballs in a pasta bake. Carb loading!

My enthusiasm started to wane after I parked my car at the rugby club, where a large dog was supposed to be getting in to the car next to me. However, awkwardly, he seemed more interested in sniffing me. Probably a sign that my running top really does need to be washed after each run I realised. So I was feeling rather flustered and embarrassed by the time I met up with my fellow runners. 

It was explained that todays training session would be 400m sprints. While I had been eating my dinner earlier, I had been catching up on the mens 100m Olympic race on iPlayer. Inspired by this, I channeled my inner Usain Bolt, and literally bolted off, racing the fastest members of the club down the field. 

By the 3rd 400m sprint I realised this was a mistake. My legs were starting to feel like lead, and protest at my request for them to move so quickly. 

By the 5th sprint my dinner was starting to gurgle in my stomach, threatening to make a reappearance on the field. 

I had flashes of higher biology going through my head. Something to do with lactic acid, pain and vomiting.

Uh oh.

I walked the 6th sprint.

And gently jogged the following 4, finally giving up and admitting defeat along with acknowledging my own stupidity after 10. 

I'm off for a long soak in the bath now. Probably won't be able to walk tomorrow. May never walk again. Wish I was Usain Bolt, bet these things never happened to him! 

Don't wolf whistle at me!

Miles I was supposed to run: 7

Miles I actually ran: 5

Feeling a bit tired today, as it's getting towards the end of the week, only managed to persuade myself to go out of the house for 5 miles, nothing more.

When I was nearly home a pair of "youths" in a blacked out Polo with lowered suspension started having out the car window to wolf whistle at me.

I carried on listening to my music, and ignored them, but in my head I imagined that I turned round and shouted; 

"I know I look awesome, you don't need to tell me. I am also a person, not a piece of meat. I don't need, nor am I seeking your approval. Grow up and go away.

I could totally out run you, and probably your stupid car as well."

I imagined that they would apologise and shuffle off, while I was completely vindicated. 

I then carried on planning my outfit for my fancy meal out on Saturday in my head. 

Stupid boys.