Manchester (again) Week Eight

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:  49.76
Gym visits: 0 but I did think about it.
Chocolate eaten: none
Alcohol  drunk:  2 bottles of wine

Weight:  11st10lb

It's club tonight.  

I've spent the entire day trying to decide what to do tonight. My leg has felt better for last 2 days and today it feels pretty good. If I bend I feel it pull but working and walking all feels fine so I'm torn between sensible Simon and twat Simon.

Sensible Simon is the Simon that spends all day working with injured people and giving them well thought out advice to help ease them back in to exercise and fitness. Sensible Simon is all about the softly softly approach and protection. Sensible Simon used to work in a school and was trusted to care for and educate young children.  Sensible Simon is 50 years old and acts like it.

And then there's twat Simon.  

Now this fella is all about the philosophy of 'fuck it, what's the worst thst can happen'. This Simon is the Simon that had a little sleep in the middle of a roundabout after a night out because he forgot where he lived. This Simon, as a child made a flame thrower, not out of a normal aerosol. Oh no, this Simon made it out of a cannister of lighter fluid, that he pressed down on concrete and let the gas all escape and then lit a match and created a fireball bigger than his head. This Simon had to be carried home from the pub drunk whilst carrying a ladies handbag that he refused to give up and collapsed on the hallway floor. This Simon ran the Great North Run one year with a stress fracture of his fibula. This Simon is the one that always takes the challenge when someone says 'I bet nobody would drink that'.  Twat Simon still thinks he's 18 years old.

So twat Simon is thinking to himself that his leg has felt okay for one day so it's probably fine to run tonight. Naturally I listen to this Simon and I'm dressed and heading out the door at 6pm to see how it feels. I head down Monkseaton Drive and for the first 2 minutes all is good and then it starts to tighten through my hamstring and the sensible side kicks in and I decide to turn up through next street and go home.  

I get to the bottom of my street and then turn the opposite way and keep running. I have a sudden thought it's not getting any worse so what's the worse that can happen. I head to Cullercoats for a slow warm up and then to the club.

My hamstring feels okay, it's got no worse but my god my ass is killing. I do 5 mins on a foam roller at the club and it eases massively. We head out to the start and I decide I'll do a few mins easy and not run with any group and do no intervals. I am super sensible and stick to the plan and run to Tynemouth and back and keep it slow and steady.

I probably did too much but got home after about 9 miles and it's no better and it's no worse.

I really fancy a glass of wine but I resist and have a coffee, watch telly and go to bed.

I've got a marathon paced session on the plan today. It's a 4 mile warm up and then 4 x 2 miles at marathon pace with 2 min recoveries.  

I decide I'm going to give it a go, I need to check if a little bit of pace triggers the injury as I have Boro half in a week and can't turn up to they without first checking I can run faster then 8:30 mile pace.

I head to the seafront and the wind is brutal so I turn inland and decide to do the 2 mile John Spence loop again.  

I've spent the last few days working on my GNR pacer playlist. I've now discovered there is actually a pre-approved playlist they expect you to use and I believe it has Shania Twain and Queen on. This will not be happening. Mine has Supergrass, The Pointer Sisters, The Chemical Brothers, The Prodigy, Outkast, Madonna, Underworld, Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, Big Special and Basement Jaxx's on and I'm pretty sure that's what people want to hear when they're running.

I put the playlist on and Jackie Wilson comes on and I start the first rep, I start a little too fast and then settle and everything feels okay. I very nearly get run over at the entrance to Tynemouth Golf Club and an old fella throws his arms up at me for running Infront of his car. He obviously doesn't realise when I'm on a rep I can't stop, I can't decide between giving him the finger or shrugging my shoulders and imstead I combine both a s do a weird shoulder shrug, half arm raise and a look of embarrassment. I think he got the message and won't be trying to run me over again.

As I'm midway through the first rep I sense a white van pulling up next to me and crawling along with me. I get worried I might be getting kidnapped or maybe even propositioned by someone thinking I'm some of sweaty running prostitute. Turns out it was just Lee in his van, he does proposition me as it turns out but I'm too busy to stop as tempting as it was.

Rep 1 done and the playlist is sounding good. Rep 2 starts and House of Pain start playing. About half a mile into this one I feel my hamstring tighten a bit, nothing major but I decide I'm going to skip the final rep and just do 3. This is in part because my hamstring hurts a bit, in part because I need to get home for work and mainly because I'm a bit knackered and hungry.

Rep 2 done and again like the first one it's a little fast. I start the final rep and decide to change direction and head home on this one, I go downhill towards the coast and then along the coast towards home. Now, I came inland because it's windy and like an idiot I've completely forgotten about the wind and also totally forgotten how wind direction works. The first mile is into a headwind and I convince myself that the second mile will therefore have a tailwind. Yeah that's right I somehow convince myself that a wind blowing from the East will suddenly become a tail wind blowing from the South when I turn.

Weirdly this doesn't happen and instead it's just a cross wind blowing me into the cycle lane constantly. Anyway, rep 3 done and it's closer to threshold pace than mara and my hamstring feels okay but again my ass is killing and I need the massage ball treatment.

Home, shower, food, work and then club in the evening.

I'm running in E tonight, they have no run leaders available and I don't often run with E so it should be good. It's in and out the bays and they all run brilliantly, Jane, Rachel and Amy at the front absolutely nail the pacing and I can just settle into the middle of the group and let them take the lead, by time I get home it's another 8 miles done.

I'm woken at 6am by Marvin. He's usually either locked out the house or locked in the kitchen with Murphy but in a moment of weakness I let him sleep in the hall on a pillowcase that he has now decided is his bed.

At 6 he stands at my side of the bed and lets out a pathetic cry that means he wants to go out, my alarm was set for 6:30 anyway so I get up and get ready and go downstairs. I let Marvin out and get ready for my run.

My plan today is 4 miles easy to Tynemouth and then it's 4 x 3 miles at marathon pace. First one I'm doing through Tynemouth and Shields and it finishes back at the Priory. Second one is downhill to Whitley and onto the prom, Thurs one is an elongated parkrun loop and final one will be the parkrun. Each rep has a one mile away jog between them.

I have a pear for breakfast, I stick on a t shirt, jacket, shorts and the ugly shoes. I then decide it's probably cold so stick a long sleeve top on under my t shirt and then I'm off.

It's just under 4 miles to Tynemouth Priory, my music is on and it's a lot warmer than I thought it was. The run to Tynemouth feels really hard, I'm sitting just under 9 min mile pace and I'm just not feeling it today, I feel tired, my legs ache and I'm not sure I want to do this session. I keep going and tell myself instead of doing each rep at a specific pace I'll just jog them to get the miles. Now this is never going to happen but by lying to myself it's enough to keep me running.

I get to Tynemouth and I feel wrecked, I'm way too hot and stop for a breather and then I have to start the rep or I'll talk myself out of it. It's a 3 mile loop, downhill past Knots Flats and then through Shields and back to the Priory. It feels incredibly hard work, way harder than 7:30 mile pace should ever feel. I'm sweating heavily and trying not to think ahead to the fact I have three more of these to do.

First rep of 3 miles down in 22:44, about 15 secs slower than I wanted but I'll take it. I take of my jacket which is dripping wet and contemplate taking off my long sleeve top and just chucking it in a bin and just wear my t shirt, I can't bring myself to do this as I quite like the top so I steady pull my sleeves up and roll up my jacket so I can carry it. I also decide I'm not doing the one mile jog recovs as I'm too tired.  

I start the second rep heading to Whitley, this one's pretty much downhill or flat so should feel okay. One mile in and I feel like I'm dying, this pace shouldn't feel like this. I get down onto the prom and rep 2 done in 22:27 which is bang on pace.

I head over to Mark B who is parkrun guv'nor today and stash my jacket on his car and whinge to him for a few minutes about his wrecked I am and then I start rep 3. This one's basically parkrun but I stick to the main road coming back and loop back onto the prom down Watts Slope. Again I'm really struggling and my hamstring really starts to bother me on this one. It's been fine since I started running again but now it's really starting to squeeze and pull right through my glute and towards my knee. Rep 3 done in 23:26, I'm a minute slow now and I'm going 20 seconds a mile too slow. My hamstring hurts, I'm tired, I'm aching and I'm a 5 minute walk from home. I stand and stretch my leg out and like an absolute dick I head to parkrun start.

And we're off.

23:20, a little faster than the last rep and I feel wrecked, my hamstring is hurting like hell and the I spot the very lovely Ross Noble and have a chat with him for a bit. A few years back I was barcode scanner and a guy finished and handed me his barcode, I scanned it without looking at him and laughed and said "ha, Ross Noble like the comedian" and then I looked up and handed it to him. It was Ross Noble the comedian. I'm such a tit sometimes.

Anyway, he's a lovely fella and we had a chat for a bit and then got a photo with him and then I jogged home to hit 17 miles.

17 shitty, painful, pointless, injury inducing miles.

Home, shower and fall asleep for a bit.

All previous blogs are available to read HERE