I’ve just finished a book called Four Months to a Four Hour Marathon. Appropriate as that’s pretty much all the time I have left before Amsterdam.
By now I should be absolutely flying, and had hoped to have one and maybe two half marathons under my belt.
Instead I’ve done hee-haw other than a few 5k runs this past three months.
I’m still suffering from the same injury. The legs are not in good form. It’s not looking good, which is largely my own fault.
Instead of going to the gym to compensate I’ve plunged my efforts into work, family and friends.
And yes, predictably, the pub.
I use the excuses of my knee/hamstring, what seems like a constant cold and a hectic schedule.
Yet the only thing that’s really been stopping me is myself.
From blethering with Iain, I know he’s had a similar hiatus.
Getting back into the gym, down to boxing and the like will I know pay dividends. The all round feel good factor from exercise is compelling.
I know, because we did it last year.
On the up side, the latent fitness from the previous year is still there. I remain in okay nick when it comes to general fitness.
The few runs that I have nervously undertaken may have been uncomfortable on the muscle but the breathing has been good.
I’ve also pretty much stayed on the straight and narrow with food.
My goals now are to work on stamina, strength and the legs and have given myself tow months to make a final decision on the ‘Dam.
And to get back into this blogging malarkey. It’s been far too long.
As for the book, it sets out a training programme which is fairly intense and clearly geared towards those working 9am – 5pm near their home.
But it was based on the author’s father starting out from scratch and achieving the unlikely.
It’s got to be worth a go.
