I went for a run today. And it was lovely. It was only 5k but each split that sucked the breath from my body and cascaded beads of sweat down my back and brow seemed glorious.
Because for the first time in months the strides of my legs jarring rubber to stone as my feet hit the pavement underneath were virtually pain free.
What’s more, each kilometer was sub six minutes meaning that it was up their with my previous expectation on time. Given that I’ve done next to no real training for weeks that makes me more than a little chuffed.
It’s a long, long way off marathon standard and, I admit, I toiled at the hills.
I’ve been carrying a cold for days which with my current stubble, bleary eyes and still stone to lose frame squeezed into shorts and running shirt must have made me a frightful sight for the early morning dog walkers.
But I was in determined mood to get another run under my belt having suffered no ill-effects from the previous week’s tentative run out.
The down side to all this, of course, is the fact I am now three months behind in my training schedule.
My first half-marathon (20km ish) was supposed to be next week. The entry fee is paid, my place is booked, but I’ve been advised it would folly to even try and the likelihood being I’d just set myself back.
Frustrating, but I ‘get’ it.
Instead my focus will be very much continuing to build up strength in my hamstrings, work on my stamina and, with a bit of luck, get back to the gym and boxing for some decent cardio and core work.
I feel like I’ve drifted from the fitness schedule I’d been following. Partly by feeling a little sorry for myself, mostly I think taking the excuse of being injured to get a bit lazy and rest or focus on other things.
But the healthy eating is mostly intact. Other than two or three impromptu evenings with drink recently, I remain pretty much dry in the alcohol stakes. Easter seems as good a time as any to crack on.