After the disappointment of yesterday in Brighton I had a difficult time motivating myself to get out for a run tonight. I knew I would feel better if I did - a real case of banish the blues of yesterday - but after almost a week of no running I felt sluggish and was more inclined to snuggle up on the couch. I'd also discovered the soup I had for lunch was the kind that just keeps giving - Olympic level repeating.
Anyway, I got home and just put the gear on and got on with it. I ran for about 35 minutes which was around the 5k mark. Given I was supposed to do a 10k the day before it wasn't great but as I managed to keep all the soup in the world intact in my stomach it was a decent result.
I sit here now mulling over a conversation I had with Alex earlier around next years London Triathlon. Apparently spaces are beginning to be taken up so I need to decide if I'm going to go for it again or not. In my mind it's a no brainer, I will definitely take part. The bigger question is in what event? I'm toying with the idea of stepping up a level from this years Super Sprint to full on Sprint - meaning 750m swim, 20k cycle followed by 5k run.
My leaning at this stage is to just go for it. If I start in earnest in January I still have a full seven months to get into the best shape I possibly can. I know Christmas is going to be a write off so why not acknowledge that now with a clear goal for the new year instead? If I can do 5k in 30 odd minutes in November there's no reason why I can't do it in August after a swim and cycle. Equally, there's no reason why I can't up from 400m to 750m when my average swim session is well over the 1000m anyway. Finally, on the cycle, if I can do 10k I can do 20k and I've got lots of time to figure it out.
Tomorrow of course I could decide to stick with the Super Sprint in an effort to beat my time from last year. Thing is, I don't believe it represents that much of a challenge 'cos I know having done even just one triathlon that I learned enough from it to beat my woeful transition times. So ... Sprint distance offers more meat to get stuck into and the rewards of doing a different event are tempting.
I think I may well be talking myself into a new and bigger challenge.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Brighton frustration
I left my flat this morning at 7.30 for a reasonably straight forward run to Victoria to catch a one hour train to Brighton which would have me there in plenty of time to run today's 10k. This rant will elaborate a little more on what happened next.
[you know where this story is going to go already]
The day started really well, cold but well. The promised rain never materialised. Instead it was crisp blue skies - German weather. I headed off with butterflies but generally feeling good and ready to get on with things. I made it easily to Hammersmith station and began the journey to Victoria station. I know already that the district line was out of action so planned to head to Green Park and change to victoria line from there.
As planned I made it to Victoria and headed out on the 8.47am train, expecting to be in Brighton an hour later.
Not so much. Got as far as Lewes where we were kicked off the train due to an earlier train derailment. I made it to Brighton pier at 11.20. Puffed, disappointed and generally a bit weepy after all the effort to get there I had missed the race. As I approached the start line the final runners were completing the 3k turn around mark.
It was all I could do to just get to the beach and sit down to take it all in. I was really gutted. Within a short time (about 15 mins) the elite men came in to finish their race. I had barely been in Brighton half an hour and finishers were streaming passed me.
Sick.
There wasn't anything really for it but to turn around and head back towards the train station. As it had taken me almost four hours to go door to pier I wasn't sure how long it would take to get back again and was not prepared to miss Ireland v Australia with its four o'clock kick off.
I got a coach from Brighton to Haywards Heath where the London bound trains were passing through. My train was bound for London Bridge so I decided to jump off at East Croydon to head for Clapham Junction where I could pick up a Putney bound train and walk the last few minutes home safe in the knowledge I had cut out London itself.
I should have known better.
In East Croyden I didn't have that long to wait, about 10 minutes so on I jumped thinking almost there, almost there. Not so much (again). Turns out the engineering works affecting the district line have stretched across to some of the overland services too so I have to get myself another rail replacement service at Clapham Junction to get to Putney. Eventually one arrived and after another half an hour I make it home. Almost 8 hours after setting out I made it back home, without anything to show for it.
There is something truly, truly wrong having spent a glorious Sunday chasing my tail in a useless and unsatisfying jaunt across South East England for the sake of 20 minutes on a south coast beach. The day could not have been better for running and given the crowds and set up along the pier /sea front in Brighton, the Gods surely had a hand in it's design.
At least Ireland won.
[you know where this story is going to go already]
The day started really well, cold but well. The promised rain never materialised. Instead it was crisp blue skies - German weather. I headed off with butterflies but generally feeling good and ready to get on with things. I made it easily to Hammersmith station and began the journey to Victoria station. I know already that the district line was out of action so planned to head to Green Park and change to victoria line from there.
As planned I made it to Victoria and headed out on the 8.47am train, expecting to be in Brighton an hour later.
Not so much. Got as far as Lewes where we were kicked off the train due to an earlier train derailment. I made it to Brighton pier at 11.20. Puffed, disappointed and generally a bit weepy after all the effort to get there I had missed the race. As I approached the start line the final runners were completing the 3k turn around mark.
It was all I could do to just get to the beach and sit down to take it all in. I was really gutted. Within a short time (about 15 mins) the elite men came in to finish their race. I had barely been in Brighton half an hour and finishers were streaming passed me.
Sick.
There wasn't anything really for it but to turn around and head back towards the train station. As it had taken me almost four hours to go door to pier I wasn't sure how long it would take to get back again and was not prepared to miss Ireland v Australia with its four o'clock kick off.
I got a coach from Brighton to Haywards Heath where the London bound trains were passing through. My train was bound for London Bridge so I decided to jump off at East Croydon to head for Clapham Junction where I could pick up a Putney bound train and walk the last few minutes home safe in the knowledge I had cut out London itself.
I should have known better.
In East Croyden I didn't have that long to wait, about 10 minutes so on I jumped thinking almost there, almost there. Not so much (again). Turns out the engineering works affecting the district line have stretched across to some of the overland services too so I have to get myself another rail replacement service at Clapham Junction to get to Putney. Eventually one arrived and after another half an hour I make it home. Almost 8 hours after setting out I made it back home, without anything to show for it.
There is something truly, truly wrong having spent a glorious Sunday chasing my tail in a useless and unsatisfying jaunt across South East England for the sake of 20 minutes on a south coast beach. The day could not have been better for running and given the crowds and set up along the pier /sea front in Brighton, the Gods surely had a hand in it's design.
At least Ireland won.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
seven months in and still going
Much has happened since I last blooged - sadly very little of it running or training based. I have packed up one house and unveiled myself in another. It's been very physical and involved lots ofn walking, lifting, carrying and up adn down stairs so hopefully that will stand to me in some bizarre way. That being said I did get out tonight and on Saturday for mini runs.
I've got the Brighton 10k coming up in less than two weeks. It's pretty daunting considering I've not trained very much and have only one 10k in the bank. I'm hoping now that things settle down a bit I can do a decent two weeks preparation.
That's the theory. It's totally winter now though and the evenings get dark so quickly and I'm in a new house so still have to figure out some new running routines (not that far from old place so not new as such, just different).
Finally, I realised earlier I've broken into my seventh month of exercise. Going back to the early entries on this blog I really never thought I'd find myself in this situation, I'm really quite chuffed. I've also lost over one and a half stone in weight which I'm totally pleased about too.
I've got the Brighton 10k coming up in less than two weeks. It's pretty daunting considering I've not trained very much and have only one 10k in the bank. I'm hoping now that things settle down a bit I can do a decent two weeks preparation.
That's the theory. It's totally winter now though and the evenings get dark so quickly and I'm in a new house so still have to figure out some new running routines (not that far from old place so not new as such, just different).
Finally, I realised earlier I've broken into my seventh month of exercise. Going back to the early entries on this blog I really never thought I'd find myself in this situation, I'm really quite chuffed. I've also lost over one and a half stone in weight which I'm totally pleased about too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
