Last September I competed in a 10k run, coming home in a respectable 56.38 but a fair chunk of that race was covered at walking pace, most notably that blimming great hill in the middle of the golf course. I wasn't fit enough to run the entire race and in the four months since I've not gone beyond my comfort of a Saturday morning 5k. With the half marathon just over two months away, I had to get out there and get some distance into my legs.
The problem is as a working dad, time is a precious commodity. It is unrealistic for me to run first thing in the morning as I need to get my youngest up and ready for nursery before getting his big brother ready for school. My lunch breaks are now restricted by the fact that I'm making up time that I lose first thing, due to not being able to leave the school gates until 8.40 at the earliest. After work I get home, get the boys fed, bathed and ready for bed. After that, I cook for my wife, who has a much more stressful day than I do, and then my choice is to eat at the same time or pull on the running gear.
So many reasons exist not to go out in the evenings. Fatigue. Hunger. The weather hasn't been entirely helpful for my motivation of late, though I have made it out a couple of times for half hearted efforts. Last night I hoped to run but the rain arrived and drowned my good intentions. Tonight, with clear skies above me I left my excuses at home.
To mix things up, I made a change from my usual route. Going past all those take away outlets was getting a little old, plus a new direction meant I would be unaware of how far I had run. My mind tends to play tricks on me when I see distance markers, even at the parkrun, meaning I suddenly feel weary or notice an ache or pain that wasn't there before. Running blind tonight meant that didn't happen. And when I got back to my driveway I stopped my app to be informed I had managed this.
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| Boo-ya! |
13 miles. 21 kilometres. This guy is starting to believe he is going the distance.
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