I was secretly quite smug about having completed 8 miles on Monday and even more smug when I woke up Tuesday and there was no aching, no pain, nothing. Result! Tuesday was a rest day and I was in London for work anyway and wouldn’t have had time to run anyway. Wednesday I felt pretty tired, went into the office for a bit and came 
home early to try and get a run in while the weather was decent. The minute we set off I felt sluggish, tired and like I was running on empty. I had eaten sensibly and should have been well fuelled. I was possibly very slightly dehydrated – I’m rubbish at drinking enough at work – but not obviously so. I barely made it a mile before I nearly threw up and then we turned round and walked home. For the rest of the day I felt like I had been run over by a truck. I went to bed early. I slept and on Thursday I felt a bit better. Not great but better
It was gorgeously sunny outside and I needed to go to the post office and we needed (well no, wanted) some crusty white bread to go with lunch so I put my big girl pants on, found my trainers and set off. I didn’t feel too bad as I made my way down the hill. I had decided to just to a very short run, take the pressure off and walk if I needed to. As I headed into the estate towards the bottom of the hill I wondered whether I should walk. I 
felt like I was going backwards. I looked at my watch wondering just how slow I was going and if maybe it would be more sensible to walk. I stared at my watch for so long that I nearly ran into the back of a parked car – I was running at 11.30 minutes per mile pace. That’s speedy for me. Well never mind walking, Could always just slow down a little. When I heard the 1 mile beep I glanced again and my first mile had been 11.31 minutes. I stopped at the post office, posted my stuff and walked to the co-op where I bought the bread, some reduced peanut butter and some reduced malteasers. Then I walked up the hill with my provisions.
Friday was rest which was good because I didn’t feel much like getting off the sofa although I did walk down the hill to see Mum and back up again. This morning we wanted to have another go at doing a little recce of the bit of the Bolton Abbey half marathon that we haven’t done before – the one where something always comes up and we end up not doing it. As we pulled in we saw a sign saying ‘orange route closed’. Sod’s law if the orange is that route, we thought. But it wasn’t. We set off on run/walk intervals of 1 minute/30 secs. I knew the first part of the loop from Cavendish Pavilion towards the Priory Church and Ruins but then instead of dropping down to the Stepping Stones and bridge, we turned up a slope to the left and followed the path until it opened up into fields. It’s a lovely route alongside the Wharfe.
The route was muddy. I don’t usually do mud. You know, mud is like icy – slip inducing. I don’t like slipping. I tend to walk through mud or possible mud. Today I ran more than I would normally have done. I was close to losing my sense of humour when we reached a flock of sheep and seeing them cheered me up and I suppose walking slowly past them helped too. I even ran a downhill on a vaguely muddy slope after seeing them. In spite of being mostly terrified I actually had a really good time. The mud was quite energy zapping but I felt pretty good at the end of the 3.67 miles. It was a good run. Just over 50 miles for the year so far and 8.27/100 Bolton Abbey Miles. And here are the sheep:
crossed and headed back along the Wharfe. I enjoyed running that stretch. We ran a few more of the hills once back in the wood and that was probably a mistake. Once we’d walked my nemesis hill and run down the other side my quad niggle had developed into a deep achey pain and I had to admit defeat. We ran/walked the rest of the way to the Pavilion and I knew it was the right call because my quad no longer recovered in-between run segments. Still frustrating though.
always did. Kid’s parties are a little awkward on Boxing Day if you actually want your friends to come (I’m not sure I did though, I’m not sure I really liked enough people enough to warrant a party – hasn’t changed that) and I did used to have a party in summer which I’m not sure I actually ever enjoyed that much. So you can see why a Boxing Day birthday is attractive! In fact it’s the perfect day to have a birthday if you’re an introvert who is really quite happy in her own company and can’t really think of anything worse than hosting a party. I mean, just imagine all these people making a fuss, no ta. I don’t have to pretend to be sociable on my birthday because everyone is too busy falling out with their outlaws or too full of mince pies and cheese to even contemplate the possibility that it might be somebody’s birthday, never mind actually come round to say happy birthday. I am particularly happy this year because I don’t think anyone wrote happy birthday in my Christmas card – just don’t do it people, just don’t.
birthday and opening presents, I’d just drunk a stupid amount of water before going bed last night so 6.15 was all my bladder could manage. I crawled back into bed and Kath brought me a cuppa and my presents from her. Oh goodness I got monorail highlighters. Life doesn’t get better than getting monorail highlighters for your birthday. Seriously, that was it, day made. Kath brought them back from 
me to be an impossible pace and yet he looked more comfortable at his pace than I do taking a leisurely walk to the end of the road. I was admiring the effortlessness and thinking that he looked vaguely familiar when it hit me that he looked familiar because watching him run is familiar – I’ve done it countless times on tv. It was 
So on we went to more dippers and plenty of ducks. The sun was coming out and the light was glorious. We walked up the path by the Strid and carried on. We didn’t cross the aqueduct so 4.5 miles minimum it was then. We stopped briefly at Barden bridge to take some photos and admire the views and then we toddled on. At almost bang on 3 miles I got the first painful niggels in my feet. I had a couple of tight calf twinges a little earlier but they had settled down as soon as we were on the flat. My feet were painful for maybe a quarter of a mile and then settled into a slight pins and needles and an ache which stayed with me until we finished but didn’t get worse and the pain didn’t come back either. We finished at the Pavilion rather that pushing on for the longer loop. I don’t want to break and 4.5 miles on hills is the most I’ve asked of my feet and calves recently. It also felt like such a 
gorgeous positive run that I didn’t want to spoil it by pushing my feet too far.
