Too Much Information...

After perceiving a certain amount of "failure of one's constitution" with my dragon boating in the previous week I undertook a couple of confidence building exercises. One was swimming beyond my ability for half an hour on Sunday, which probably made me look like I was half swimming half drowning to the onlookers clutching bottles of Corona in preparation for a party when the pool closed to the general public. Then, on Monday night I resolved to run the run all in one go, and I almost did! I only faltered about two thirds of the way around, going uphill I just gave in and started walking, then after a few step I thought 'you can't stop when dragon boating!' and that pushed me back into a run.

On the final uphill stretch I was seriously fading though, I expect I looked like a typical amateur jogger at that point - barely moving forward, looking like a heart attack about to happen. I doubt I would have made it if it weren't for the fact that I saw a cat sat on the other side of the road, looking at me. This cat looked very much like my first cat, Mitzy, so I pretended that this moggie was her ghost and had manifested to inspire me.

The feline phantasm self trickery worked a treat and I highly recommend it. If I had stopped it would have been easy to imagine the cat looking at me with disappointment and disdain in its eyes - cats have just the right look to carry this off perfectly.

If any running coaches read this and decide to use cats in their training regime then you are free to do so, no fee is payable. However, I would like some credit when your aspiring athlete wins gold.

n.b. As previously stated, the cat is blessed with a face of disdain that makes it a great motivator. Coaches wishing to invoke the spirits of other animals are advised to steer clear of dogs (too much sympathy) and lemurs (just look surprised at success or failure), but owls and tortoises might well work. Let me know how you get on...

Ups and Downs...

Last weekend I was so good. I was a running machine - maybe an antique running machine, yes, but a running machine nonetheless.

I ran after work, that was a really nice night.
I ran in the rain, which was great because I could exhale so hard that I ejected slobber all over my own face but, because I was already wet, no one could tell, I hope.
I ran with a rucksack gnawing at my back and a tin of bloody mints clanking with every footfall - I had to use the power of grumpiness to fuel me through that one. Why was I wearing a rucksack? Because I needed to buy a bag of flour halfway around the circuit. You see, this running malarkey is practical and can be integrated into normal, day-to-day activities. Although it does make it bobbins. Rach was right when she said I'd be rubbish in the army.

It should be noted that each of these permutations took place on different evenings.

Anyway, that was a successful weekend, followed by... not much running at all really. In fact, the week was totally bereft of running, except for a quick warm up jog. Why, I hear you ask, why Jon, why have you not capitalised on such a great innings, why did you throw it all away. Why? Why for the love of all that's holy have you forsaken the ugly shoes, apart from the time you didn't a couple of nights ago, which was actually a really good run, involving your longest stretch so far.

The answer is simple. You see, although running has seemed like a good idea for a long time, especially when seeing buses departing up ahead and fleeing from a variety of mid-paced, not particularly tenacious predators, I do have added motivation. Want to know why I should have done a lot more running?

http://paddlesofpain.blogspot.com/

Yep, the increased cardio certainly helps, but more importantly I've got something that makes the running feel like an easy option. Haha, genius! Ouch.

A New Plan

After three runs over a week we decided on Tuesday that it was time for a different running format. Actually, Rach decided this and I didn’t have much of an opinion so I rolled with it. First we warmed up with a good few minutes of walking and then we ran as far as we could; then walked when we felt our lungs were burning and chundering was around the corner; once that had worn off it was back to running… and repeat.

I wouldn’t call it a complete success as it resulted in the last third of the circuit being walked. However, we think this was mostly down to dehydration and not enough food in the hours prior to the run so we will try it again whence next we are out.

It was certainly more successful than the action of wearing the ugly shoes to work. This wasn’t something I did by choice – the other shoes I normally wear to work were wet and all other options were either too smart or too wrecked to go with. I felt compelled to explain to people that I knew my shoes were ugly and that I was only wearing them for convenience. A surprise reply came from Mr Freer, who told me about his own ugly running shoes. Perhaps we should form an online social network.

Both yesterday and the day before I was out trying to outpace walking speed.

Two nights in a row! Awe yeah boy-ee (or lay-dee, depending on gender). Friday night I was out with Rach (the better half) straight after work, which was an accomplishment in itself, because I really only wanted to eat food and drink pop. Obviously, I did do that after the run.

But last night I was playing cardio catch up. While I was on the couch in the morning Rach went to town, then hiked back, which is about 2 hours of walking with a good 500 feet upness from the end. At least. The cat even got its miles in, first running up about two thirds of our 60 odd steps, she then fought a series of skirmishes against the oppressive forces of thin air. The cat's still standing so it was a draw at the very least.

With such vigorous examples around me, I stepped up my game. Bigger strides, more pace, longer running bits, shorter walking bits. In all honesty, I think I went to far, ran before I could walk, or something. The last stretch I knew I started too quickly on and hurling felt like a distinct possibility. When I got home Rach said I looked purple, like I was going to die, in fact. Looking in the mirror I couldn't see it myself, perhaps I'd lost the colour in my vision. Also, I couldn't talk for ages without coughing, which seems to be very funny from the outside.

I kind of glad it's raining tonight.

And Finally...

It's been a week since I bought my fantastically ugly silver and black running shoes in preparation for some New Years Resolution action and finally, tonight, I used them. They had already been out in a strictly walking sense - around Wellington, where they helped me blend in with tourists off of cruise ships. They had even been up to the location used for Rivendell in the Lord Of The Rings movies, where they had proven most comfortable.

After such outings they were clearly broken in, so I had no excuses for not running left.

I'm not really built for running, I'm more a walker/crawler/bus rider. But tonight I ran... actually I walked first, then I ran, then I walked a bit, then I ran because it was downhill and even then started walking again when halfway down the hill. Afterwards I ran some more, then got stitch and had to walk some more. Finally I was drawn back homeward by an epic red sunset explosion in the sky.

Yes, I am proud of myself, despite it being more of a walk with runny bits.