Oh Manchester So Much To Answer For ...

Manchester (again) Week Two

Oh Manchester, So Much To Answer For
Week 2

Well, it's that time once again and it only feels like Amsterdam was 5 minutes ago, but here we go again ...

The week in numbers ...
Miles ran: 50.09
Gym visits: 1 (it had to be done)
Chocolate eaten: 1 large aero and a few other things
Alcohol drunk: 1 bottle of red

Weight: 11st11lb

Monday 5th January

Once again it's rest day, also my legs are pretty knackered after yesterday's trail run. My legs just aren't built for trails or winter for that matter.

I like a nice flat concrete or tarmac path to run on, preferably with a bit of sunshine and I'm in black shorts and black t shirt, wearing sunglasses and a ridiculously bright pair of trainers with matching socks.

Hopefully that's just round the corner.

Anyway, it's back to work proper today and back to not drinking red wine every day. Toast for breakfast which is a sensible choice, lunch was going to be an omelette with lots of veg but then I spot last night's takeaway curry in the fridge and decide I'll have a bit of that.

I eat all of it, rice, lentil curry, paneer massala, sag aloo, Bombay aloo and a poppadom.

I'm such a greedy bastard. Don't bother with tea as I feel quite sick for the rest of the day.

Tuesday 6th January

Grand Prix tonight but it's been cancelled so unsure what running will be today. Take Murphy out for a walk and it's either thick snow that's lovely to walk on or sheet ice. I step on one bit of ice and do a comedy slip and like a proper old man I feel my back twinge. It's fine bit I feel I'm at that age now where if I fall people would rush to help me up and not laugh at me. I want people to laugh at me, I'm too young to be old.

Evening session and we're planning something on the track, it's still covered in the snow but should be run'able, sort of.

I head out for a warm up and do extra to make sure I get decent miles, 6 miles at 9:00 min miles and it's hard work, the slush and the snow just adds n extra layer of crapness when you're running, every step feels ten time harder but 6 miles and I'm done and at the clubhouse.

Not a chance I'm running with B tonight, I'm knackered and I don't even fancy C, I fancy a plod by myself just for miles and not bothered about the times.

We call up the groups...

'A' team off you go

'B' team off you go

And then Wendy looks at me and utters those 3 words, You coming Jamison?

Ah fuck, why did I write a blog about needing to run in B team and why did Wendy read my blog and think I was serious. I'm in B. It's slushy and slippy and awful and I'm at the back but just about hanging on. Wendy sticks with me to nudge me along but I just can't do snowy running, it's like beach running andy feet are all over the place and I just can't get any pace. We finish the 3rd rep and I can't believe there's another 7 to go, I ask if that was number 3 or this one is number 3 and I'm told it's number 6.

I've never been so happy.

I clearly can't count but I'm happy.

I grind out the last few reps, Wendy mentions it would be good to do 12 for the distance, I may have to push Wendy over and injure her but I'd have to catch her to do that so it's unlikely.

We finish, I plodge home, have a shower, eat some biscuits and have a glass of wine. I need to do 5 miles easy tomorrow, I don't want to go out in the slush again but I can't face rejoining the gym and I hate treadmills.

Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Wednesday 7th January

It's grim out there, ice and slush and my legs are aching from yesterday's 9 miles and I just can't face a run so I'm skipping today.

Nothing much happens, I work a bit, I get my hair cut and a I have a spare 20 mins when on the way to get my haircut so go to the pub and have a pint of Guinness and witness a superb conversation which went something like this.

(Old fella enters pub, approaches bar)

Old Fella - You got any wine?

Bar Staff - Yes, we do

OF - (Now shouting) DO YOU HAVE WINE?

BS - Yes, white, red or rosé

OF - A BOTTLE OF WINE, I WANT A BOTTLE OF WINE

BS - (Also now shouting) WHAT SORT OF WINE?

OF - WINE

BS - WHAT SORT

OF - A BOTTLE TO TAKE HOME, WHITE

BS - (now given up shouting) What sort of white?

OF - (increasingly annoyed) JUST NORMAL WINE, WHITE

BS - It's all normal wine, you want Chardonnay, pinot?

OF - WINE, JUST WINE, I TOLD YOU ALREADY, NORMAL WINE

BS - What do you mean? It's all normal wine

OF - I CANT HEAR YOU, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING

BS - (Now very irritated) House wine?

OF - NORMAL WINE, WINE, WHITE WINE

BS - Theyre all 'normal' wine, what sort?

OF - WINE, IN A BOTTLE

BS - Okay, house white (She slams it on the bar)

OF - HOW MUCH?

BS - It's £18 a bottle

OF - HOW MUCH!

BS - £18 a bottle, this is a pub not a shop

OF - YOU GOT OTHER WINE?

BS - Yes, loads

OF - HOW MUCH?

BS - Oh for fucks sake, £18, they're all £18, everything's £18 or you could go to an off licence where it's cheaper

OF - WHAT?

BS - (Shouting loudly) Off Licence, outside, over there

OF - I WANT AN OFF LICENCE, NOT A PUB

BS - I know you do, there's one outside.

OF - I JUST WANT WINE

BS - (Points outside) Go to the shop over there

OM - IM DEAF (he now walks out of pub) I'LL GO TO SPAR

BS - Fuck my fucking life, mother fucker, fucking normal fucking wine, for fucks sake, fuck me, holy sweet mother of fuck

I laugh, finish my drink and walk to get my hair cut and see the old boy entering Spar. I have 5 minutes spare so toy with going in there to witness the same conversation again but resist.

I wish I had gone in there.

Thursday 8th January

It's even worse outside now, I'm working most of the day and hoping to get out at 4pm for thresholds but the WhatsApp conversation isn't filling me with much hope. It looks like my option is the beach and I don't 'do' sand.

As the day goes on I decide I can't face it and I'm going to have to go to the gym and go on a treadmill, the chances of me doing 6x1 mile at threshold are slim at best but I figure maybe a few easy miles and Threshold on Friday will be okay.

Get to the gym and have to pay as I cancelled my membership last month, idiot. Get to the counter and hand over my ease card, she scans it and looks confused and asks if im a member, I say I'm not and she says to just go in for free anyway, result!

Find a spare treadmill between Alan and Huw and here we go. Now, I hate gyms and I particularly hate treadmills. Why anyone would choose to run on one of these things instead of outside confuses the hell out of me but today it's a necessity.

Start my warm up, crank up my music and do 5k and decide how I need to start the session and see what happens. I'm predicting I'll do 2 or 3 reps and they'll all be slow and then I'll sack it off and go home.

I flick the screen to a run through Singapore and crank up the speed and start the first mile rep, takes me a bit of time to get the speed right and the first rep is a little slow, 2 min jog and I'm off again. To cut a long story short the first 3 reps are all a little slow and sit somewhere between threshold and mara pace and then I've worked out the speeds and system and the next 3 I do too fast to make up for the slower ones.

I have never been so sweaty in my life, my shorts look like I've pissed myself like Paul Bain during a marathon. My top is dripping with sweat and the treadmill now resembles one of those fancy underwater ones, sweat everywhere, it's disgusting but after 1hr and 30mins I have done just over 11 miles and I hope that never again will I have to do this.

Awful, truly awful.

I go home, have a shower, eat some tea and then eat an entire box of celebrations by myself.

Yeah that's right Poppy I ate your entire box of Celebrations like the massive greedy pig that I am.

Friday 9th January

Easy run day and it looks very much like the ice has gone. I've also ordered some new trainers so hoping they arrive early enough for me to wear them for an easy 5 miles.

They're orange.

Bright orange.

And pink.

Bright orange and bright pink.

Lovely.

I decide I'm not going out today, my legs are stiff from the treadmill session and it's cold and then a knock at the door and my new trainers are here.

5 minutes later I'm on my way out for an easy 5 miler in the Evo atr's. They are lovely, very bright, much better grip than the standard Evo's and they feel great.

Nice easy run on clear pavements and then back home to work, then the usual Friday night of a bottle of red wine, dinner with the family and then settle down to watch a movie and finish off the wine.

Plan tomorrow is 14 miles or so, dependent on the weather and whether I can be bothered to get up early enough in the morning.

I'm a lazy bugger.

Saturday 10th January

It's 6:30am and I can't sleep, I lay in bed for a bit longer before building up the courage to get up and out into the cold.

I walk downstairs and stick my running gear on, the thermostat says it's minus one outside, it's akso dark, very dark.

And cold, did I mention the cold?

I get ready and decide I can't go out without proper nutrition so I eat 2 of Aldi's finest ginger snap biscuits and drink a mouthful of lemonade that I left last night. That's probably a bit too much hydration and nutrition for me to be honest, should have just gone with one ginger snap.

Out the door and heading to Blyth, it's cold, it's dark and I'm not in the mood for this. Aim is to be around 8 min miles for 11 miles and then do Whitley parkrun a little faster. Get to Blyth and loop round and start heading back, pass loads of runners heading to Blyth parkrun and then come past the caravan park and St Mary's road and see Graham who tells me Whitley parkrun is cancelled, I swear a bit as this now means I have to finish my run by myself instead of tagging PR on. I'm at 9.5 miles and need to do at least another 4.

I realise this means I need to run to Tynemouth and then back home. I plod on but I'm not in the right headspace today and just want to go home, I turn my music up and decide I'll turn back when I hit 12 miles. I get to 12 miles at the sealife centre but have to go a little further as I have a 'thing' where I can't just turn back, I need something to run around and loop back. It can't be a lamppost, they're not enough of a 'thing'. It needs to be a park bench at the very minimum but I prefer a traffic island or a shop that I can circle round the back of or the clock tower at Tynemouth but I can't be arsed to go that far. I convince myself a traffic light is acceptable.

It isn't. It's basically a glorified lamppost and I berate myself for ages heading back about this decision. The beauty of this is that a mile has passed whilst I argue with myself about the validity of the traffic light turning post. I purposely slow up slightly as I approach a zebra crossing so I can stop for 10 seconds as I'm tired and if I haven't mentioned it, I'm not enjoying this run.

Get home and I've done 14.5 miles and pace was 8:07 which is spot on for what I needed to do.

Think about having a rest day tomorrow but then notice I'm 11 miles from hitting 50 miles for the week, now there is absolutely no reason why I need to do 50 miles and it matters not one bit to anybody but you know I have to do it.

Sunday 11th January

Wake up and look outside.

It looks miserable.

Have a chat on WhatsApp and all my marathoners agree it's awful out there but we all bully and harass each other into going out, that's what friends are for.

I go for 2 pairs of tights, long socks, t shirt, long sleeve top, wind proof jacket, two pairs of gloves and a hat and head out.

Starts out heading North through the houses and I'm wondering what all the fuss was about. It's cold but it's not slippy and the wind is fine, bunch of bloody babies saying it was bad. I loop round through Brierdene and onto the seafront to head South to Tynemouth.

Holy shit. I go from 8 minutes miles to hardly moving, needles into the face constantly and gusts of wind that knock me sideways. I run into a bus stop when the wind catches me off guard, I have no idea of this was witnessed by anyone as I had my eyes closed to stop the hail stabbing me in the eyeballs.

This may be the cause of me running into the bus stop.

Head down and grind it out up the coast, there's not many runners out and about today, not many people either which is a good thing as I hate pedestrians. I just need 11 miles today, get to Tynemouth and then weave through the streets to Shields and then it's downhill with a tailwind home.

I see Ivan, Rich and Ben and we all enthusiastically finger each other, I genuinely toy with turning and chasing them down so I can do it again in Ben's face for pure comedy value but I'm knackered from the wind and just went to get out of it.

Another mile and I'm in Tynemouth and heading down to Shields, the wind doesn't seem so bad and my pace picks up once again. I see a runner coming towards me but my head's down and I just hear the familiar screech of Natasha's voice shouting at me. A loop round and then back into Tynemouth and 3 miles left to go and this should take me pretty much home.

Downhill, and a bit of a tail wind and it's bloody lovely. Home after 11.11 miles and a decent pace of 8:16 miles.

I'm absolutely freezing, I peel off layer after layer of soaking wet clothes and get in the bath for an hour, I don't have any chocolate to eat which is not good and the only sweet thing I can find is a Kendal mint cake bar, that'll have to do. I manage to eat this without dropping any in the bath, bonus.

The rest of the day is spent shivering, trying to keep warm and lying on the settee.

Week 2 done, my first 50 mile week since early December and I am officially sick of the cold and shitty weather. Luckily we only have about another 2 months of it.