So, yesterday we had a race-paced 18 miles to complete. It's fair to say that we've been suffering from fatigue fatigue of late; we're tired of feeling tired!
Neither of us were bursting with motivation as we loaded with pasta, had an early night and then woke up at the crack of dawn for pre-run porridge. My phantom leg pains were back and I'd pretty much convinced myself that my right Achilles was ruptured!
Anyway, non-existent injuries aside, we'd decided to go for a change of route, partly because it was meant to be a relatively fast run, but also to keep it interesting.
In my head, I'd calculated that if we ran from the house to Heckmondwike Morrisons, joined the Greenway and ran up it to the end, before running back down to the other end at Ravensthorpe, and then returning home via Dewsbury and Bradford Road, it'd be pretty much 18 miles. Give or take. Obviously.
My mind is a map!
So, off we went and, I'm pleased to report, I felt alright. No pain, no tightness - happy days! Sam, on the other hand, wasn't on the money. She'd decided to go out for a five miler on Friday, after being a bit poorly for a couple of days before, and I think the malaise was still with her because she was struggling with a general feeling of tightness, stitch and heavy legs. It's not a good place to be and I was really feeling for her because I know how hard she's trying and I've been in the same situation myself for the best part of last year. She's a tough little bugger though, so I know she'll rally and come back fighting. Probably next week at Spen, knowing my luck!
On and on we pressed and, despite Sam feeling like the going was tough, we were pretty much nailed on for pace, with every mile being near enough bang on 8:30.
It was only as we neared the end of the Greenway that my toes started giving me gyp and I began to feel like I really couldn't be arsed! This made me feel mad, so I decided to do the exact opposite of what I really wanted to do and put my foot down for an uphill blast into Dewsbury and along Bradford Road.
By now, the sun was out and it was a great feeling to be hammering it in the early spring sunshine. By the time I'd got to Tesco, a couple of miles later, I was feeling it a bit, so I backed off and coasted the remaining mile or
so home. Good times!
Then followed the obligatory ice bath and I was determined not to bail early, like I did last week (oh the shame). Armed with a steaming hot brew, I plunged myself into the icy depths and, once the initial shock was over, I actually started to enjoy it.
It must have been well cold because, after 20 minutes in it, followed by a scalding hot shower for another ten, my legs were still stone cold to the touch!
Tell you what though, it's worked a treat - to say it was a tough run, my legs feel fine today and I'm raring to go for week ten of sixteen and the forthcoming Spen 20 race.
As the great Robert Matthew Van Winkle once said: "To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal, light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle. Dance!"
Indeed, Robert, indeed.
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