York - Week 7

I remembered that when I did the London blog (link) I always did a weekly weigh in and haven't done it this time round, so now I am.  This is mainly because I'm slimmer now and I can show off about how much weight I've lost.

I checked back and when I did London I was 178lb when I started training and down to 168lb the week of the race, for those young'uns that's 81kg down to 76kg.

This time round after dieting since June I started mara training at 169lbs (77kg) and 7/8 weeks in I'm 163lbs (74kg).  So this time I'm starting at a much better weight and hoping to drop to about 70kg which I last weighed when I was about 13 which is shortly before I discovered lager and it all went downhill.

Anyway, Monday is always rest day but this week things are being moved around so today I did an easy 6 miles along the coast but put in every set of steps and hill out and back and listened to The Proclaimers very loudly.

Woke up this morning and to my amazement it was no longer my birthday, so back to work it is.

10k easy today as always, running through Cullercoats and I see two white haired ladies standing at the side of the path properly staring at me, I have  my non-prescription sunglasses on so can't see clearly and can't be sure if I know them.  As I get closer I realise they are really looking at me, I smile but can feel their beady dark little eyes burning into me, I have music on but can hear them squawking to each other in that way certain ladies do. 

I get closer and am now a couple of metres away and can see them clearly, I don't know them as they stand there by the fence clearly judging me.  Beady little eyes, white hair, beaks...

Seagulls, they were seagulls.

I just smiled at a pair of seagulls, even worse I just got angry at a pair of seagulls who I'm still pretty sure were talking about me.  In my defence they were pretty big for seagulls and old ladies can be quite small.

Pedestrians and seagulls, now both on my shit list.

Easy miles day as always.

Feeling okay day but hip is a little tight again, four miles steady with 10 x 10 seconds hill repeats which I enjoy.  Home for a massage, for once recieving one and not giving as my hips, glutes and lower back are all a bit battered.

Then an evening watching telly and drinking red wine which is my Friday tradition.

Today is 20 miles.

Plan is the now flavoured coast road route for 10 miles, turn and head back.  Worked well last time so surely it'll be fine this time.

So, here's the background....

I drank a few beers and some red wine at the food fair, I ate halloumi fries, cheesy fries and drank some more wine, I went home and ate a massive pizza, all of it, all of it all by myself and washed it down with wine.

Up at 6am after a bad night's sleep, had some porridge and got ready to head out.  Left at 7am with some gels, salt sticks and a bottle of lucozade.

Miles 1-10 were uneventful.  The miles flew by and all was good, had a gel at 4 miles and another at 8 and salt sticks every 15-20 mins and felt fine.  Turned at 10 miles and started the 10 miles home back along the coast road. 

Next gel was 12 miles, took a bit of the gel and felt sick, knew I needed to take it so squeezed the whole thing into my mouth and instantly knew it was a shit idea, I held it in my mouth and did a little mouth vomit and had to swallow the whole thing, took a swig of lucozade, swilled it round my mouth and spat it out.

Idiot.  I'll not do that again.

Then it really all went to shit, time literally stood still and 12-16 miles was just grim, couldn't get moving, the pace felt like it was slowing and I would have sworn I was running 9:30 mile pace and I just wanted to sack it off.  A check of Strava actually shows that 12-16 miles were the fastest miles of the entire run and that's probably why I was as finding it hard work.

But then it all changed, at 16 miles I got a second wind, I felt great and knocked out a fast mile, took a gel out my pocket at 17 miles, squeezed a bit in my mouth and immediately felt sick, then had a great idea that I should squeeze all of it into my mouth at once, hang on a minute, haven't we been here before...... 

Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me. 

I was now broken, absolutely finished, my second wind lasted one mile, one pathetic mile and I was destroyed.  I still had 3 miles to go and I was in familiar territory on the coast but really struggling to lift my feet and run.

Passed Suzanne and Lisa and got given the finger and that made me smile, then passed Michelle, Tony and Gareth and just had the energy to give them the finger which me laugh a bit more.  Knew I had to hit the 20 mile marker, so head down and get it done. 

20.28 miles done.

Off to co-op and went very light headed and thought I was going to pass out, grabbed a coke, a protein shake and a pack of fruit pastilles.  Downed the protein shake and the coke and chucked three fruit pastilles in my mouth.  Turns out fruit pastilles are pretty hard work to chew, particularly when you're wrecked, chewed for a few mins and realised these were not going down, needed a drink, I'd drank all my drinks, do I keep going or spit them out?

Spit them out with sticky fruity saliva on the floor of the carpark or slog away and eat them, I went with eating them, it was hard work, almost harder than the 20 miler.

Home, shower, coffee and a little doze on the bed and then pub for lunch.  Pint of Guinness, large fries and a goats cheese salad, followed by a pint of coke, realised I had taken on almost 2000 calories in 3 hours and was still eating, felt sick but still going.

And then the food fair for another pint of lager, followed by the pub for 2 large glasses of red wine, long runs make me crave booze and food.

Being hungry makes me want booze.

Booze is great.

Food is great.

All previous blogs are available to read HERE