Decided, on Friday, to forgo my usual "day of rest" and went out for a 6 mile trot.
I really don't like doing that but commitments during the week had kept the weekly mileage down a bit and I needed another run to tip my total into the 50 mark. I know other runners have more "scientific" and well-planned training regimes and can probably get by on less. And perhaps it's a bit "obsessive" but I really need to do at least 50 a week. Seldom a problem in the summer months, but it can be a real pain in the arse some times.
This weekend has seen me do back to back 12 milers, so I'm off to a decent start this week I suppose. The weather has been decidedly unkind (especially this morning) and any thoughts I may have harboured of doing anything longer soon went out of the window. This morning saw me, at one point, fighting my way into a fairly stiff head wind, with hard snow battering into my face. Ended up running along with my buff pulled over my mouth and nose to try and stop the discomfort. That didn't really help much as it just hinders your breathing. So when I got to a point in my run just past Crowhill, at about the 6.5 mile mark, the decision about whether or not to turn towards Oldhamstocks (and hence a 16 mile route) or just turn towards Innerwick and home was pretty much already made.
Training not looking good for a 50k in three weeks.
Been feeling a bit low lately so I felt I could do with cheering up a bit. I suggested to Anne that we could pop out to see Edinburgh's latest free visitors attraction at the weekend.
Yes indeed folks, I wanted to go to Hermiston Gate and watch the "stupid-fat-bastards" queueing for donuts! It's a bit like the chimps tea-party or the penguin-parade at the zoo, only with infinitely less lovable creatures. Jeeze - I love cakes, but who the hell makes a special journey and then sits in a car queue just for a feckin' donut??