After nearly two weeks of not running I finally made it out of the house today. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to run. I had a work thing in London yesterday and half way through that I started feeling pretty grotty again and I was sooo tired by the time I got home. I was worried that I had caused a recovery set back and would feel crap again today. However, I slept relatively well and got up feeling ok. Not exactly springing into action but ok. I didn’t fancy heading straight out so had coffee and scrambled eggs on toast and then made bread while Kath got the first coat of paint on the outside of our back door.

Eventually I thought it was too nice a day to stay inside and went and got changed. My training plan is on a high mileage weekend  – 4 miles yesterday and 13 today but I’d already decided that wasn’t sensible and I just needed to get out today and see how things felt. I decided on a route that would give lots of options in terms of loops and distances. The route was all road and good sections of canal towpath so I went for road shoes – my new Brooks (they’re lovely). I really didn’t know what to expect. I just set off gently. After a minute or so of running I could feel the crap in my lungs but apart from spending the entire run coughing said crap up, I actually felt pretty good. Running was sort of comfortable. I deliberately didn’t look at my watch because I didn’t want to freak myself out if I was going fast or be disappointed if I was going really slow. I kept going reminding myself that I could drop into run/walk if I wanted to and remembering to look around too.

There were some stunning glittering damp spiders’ webs, lots of people getting their gardens ready for winter, cats enjoying the air and warm sun and people doing Sunday things like washing cars and having cuppas in the sunshine. I was trying to think of how I might describe how I felt running. I’m not sure I can quit capture it but being out made me realise just how much I’d missed it and how good it is for me mentally. Running felt familiar – in a good way. It felt a little like when you sit with someone in silence lost in your own thoughts and they are in theirs but there’s no pressure to talk or be sociable. Maybe it’s the ‘just being’ nature of it that I was particularly conscious of today and the words that kept popping into my head were comfortable familiarity.

I dropped onto the canal towpath slightly bemused that running still felt fine apart from the odd cough and spit. It was busy. I suppose people are taking advantage of the autumn sun. I saw dogs of all sizes but all were well behaved and out of my way today which was nice, there were cyclists too and then I saw lots of runners in quick succession, all men. The first was going fast and was working hard – he managed a nod and I gave him the thumbs up. He was followed by a guy going at what looked like a comfortable pace for him. I said hi and he gave me the thumbs up. ‘Cool’ I thought. The third looked the serious type and was clearly trying to catch the guy in front of him (and would do quite quickly). He didn’t acknowledge my wave and smile; ‘roadrunner’ I thought as I went past. Shortly after I heard footsteps behind me and a fourth runner came past me. Just for fun I let him get a little ahead and then tried to match his stride and pace for a little while. Just for a little while though – it was barely sustainable for the 50 metres or so that I tried. Fun though.

Mile 2 came and went and I was nearing the canal bridge at which I was going to cross to loop back. It was busy here, more cyclists, walkers, dogs and more runners. Ladies, was there a memo I missed instructing all women to not run today? I didn’t see another female runner. It was odd. Anyway, there were scout activities happening on the canal by this bridge and further up into the old golf course so I gritted my teeth and ran over the bridge and up the hill. I’ve walked the hill faster than I ran it today but never mind. I pushed on and was glad when the noise from the kids dissipated and all I could hear was my breathing. I realised my lungs were burning. My watch beeped for 3 miles and I walked a bit to let my lungs recover. I coughed up more crap and did a few run/walk intervals between landmarks. I was trying to work out if I’d had enough. I thought maybe I had and was going to head home from here.

I walked up the next slope and then began running again, I ran past the next point to walk up the hill and home. I felt good still, going home just yet didn’t make sense. I ran past the point after that too and thought if I kept going I could hit 5 miles which felt like a very suitable come-back distance. So I carried on. A little way up the next road section which slopes deceptively and annoyingly uphill my legs decided I was mad and that they were now very tired. I walked the slope. After the left turn where I almost double back I knew I just had a little section which sloped downhill left before I’d stop running and walk straight up the hill home. My legs didn’t want to run anymore though. But I did. I pushed on, got to the bottom of the footpath and stopped running. I started walking up the footpath and soon wondered what on earth had possessed me to think it was a good idea to go straight up rather than round. Insane. The three pictures in this post are all from the hill I left til last and as usual the photos don’t to the hill justice – so here’s the strava elevation picture which makes it at least look like it might be a hill

But I made it home. 13.25 pace overall with a really good run over the first 3 miles. I’m back on the plan now – 45 minutes Tuesday, 5 miles Wednesday, 45 minutes Thursday and then 3 miles on Saturday. The week after is a high mileage week which is good because it gives me this week to ease back in and get fully better.

Oh and Sunday weigh-in. About half a pound heavier than last week.

Happy running.