So today was meant to be our 20 miler. Well that wasn’t to be but the drama wasn’t really about running. Neither of us slept very much because Ernie-cat was really struggling to breathe and was all wheezy and sneezy. We were worried about him. We know that he’s not getting better and that how long he’s still going to be with us can probably be counted in days or weeks rather than months so we had to wonder whether this was it, was this him suffering too much?
It was early, we had a cup of tea and porridge in bed and cuddles with the cats and then we got up. I felt a bit grotty – the beginnings of a cold which have been the beginnings of a cold since Thursday. I also felt emotional – it’s Rachel’s birthday today. It would have been her 40th. I miss her. And then there’s our Ernie-Cat. So getting out for a run was not a given – it was tempting to curl up in bed and try and sleep or at least hide. We decided that we would change plans slightly – rather than running all the way to Skipton we’d run a little bit that way and then head back in the other way with lots of options for coming off the canal and finding other ways home if we needed them.
We made it out the door and kept plodding along mostly in silent togetherness as we ticked off the 2 minute run and 30 second walks. Occasionally we’d walk longer to have a drink but mostly it was just one foot in front of the other, lost in our own thoughts. Mile 5 came fairly quickly and then we hit the muddy path as we made our way through Silsden and towards Skipton. I kept thinking that if I could just nudge us to 8ish miles in that direction …
Just after 7 miles comes a stretch of canal towpath that goes very close to the road and is noisy and not very nice to run along – we turned before that and headed back. The mud was zapping my energy but we kept moving. All the way my mind was all over the place. It pinged between Rachel, happy memories and things left unsaid, the random joy of moving, the effort, our Ernie-cat as a pot-bellied kitten, his operation and his journey back to fat cat status over the last weeks and that horrible noisy he made in the night trying to breathe. And then, at maybe mile 8 ish I blurted it out ‘ I don’t want Ernie to die’. We walked a bit.
We made our way to 10 miles. It was a relief to get off the mud at 9 miles. I just didn’t have the energy for it. At 10 miles we both gave up trying to be brave. We had a little cry and talked about our Ernie – like the first night him and Shackleton spent in our house, in the bedroom with door closed and we lost them. We spent about an hour looking for them until a bowl of food brought Ernie out from under/behind the bedside drawers which, it turned out, didn’t have drawers going all the way to the back leaving a kitten sized gap. Anyway, from 10 miles we just walked back home. Arriving 3 hours and 17 minutes and almost exactly half marathon distance after we left. We had some food and a bath (ouch – chafing) and are looking forward to a Sunday roast at Kath’s mum’s later today.
So it wasn’t 20 miles but there are lots of positives to take from that run:
- We actually left the house and set off
- 5 miles seemed like nothing
- My Roclites were great on the mud
- The 2 minute/30second intervals actually seem to work ok and I can see myself going far longer – particularly if there’s no mud
- There was no running meltdown or drama really – there were tears and struggling to control breathing and a bit of a meltdown but none of that was about running
- We ran 10 miles yesterday and my legs weren’t really that tired today
- We got home in time to call the vet and get an appointment for Ernie
Ernie cat went to see the vet. He got a thermometer up his butt and and an injection is his neck and we will try and help him clear his sinuses with steam. He’s not getting well again but he’s hanging on for now! After the indignity of the thermometer he came home, had a treat and fell asleep on Kath who fell asleep on the sofa. Isn’t that what Sundays are for?