Well, this time in 4 weeks I’ll be sat exactly where I am now, sofa, pjs, only I’ll have a glass of Moet in my hand (its already chilling) and it will all be over. Not that I’m wishing time away but I can’t shake the fear that 4 weeks is a long time to not fall over and damage myself so I’m trying to reduce the risk of this.
This week in training has been a tad topsy turvy. Whilst my training diary will vouch for having run in all conditions (except warmth), rain, fog, pitch black, minus 4, hail, ice, snow…even this weekend was too much for me. The worst snow in apparently 50 years has fallen, despite the fact that on Thursday it was supposedly the official start to the Spring.
On Friday morning the snow started, to the point that we had to turn round on a blocked road, and by the time Chris had got back from Laneshawbridge at 8pm it was looking unlikely that I’d be running 18 miles on the Saturday morning seen as he struggled getting off Niall’s street. I decided to have a dry and early night anyway, seen as I was completely shattered after partying like it was my birthday and not my Dad’s last week, drinking far too much wine in Gina’s hot tub on Thursday night, and being full of cold. I’d say it was the excessive training giving my immune system a beating, but I take full responsibility for 3 boozy school nights out of 5 probably adding to it. I was asleep by 10.30pm. Luckily I got a few hours in because I got rudely awoken by Supertramp at 2am and my very pissed boyfriend trying to ring a kebab and show Niall each and every one of his snare drums. The final straw was at 3.10am when the only kebab shop that would deliver in blizzards started banging on my front door like their life depended on it.
So to be honest not running for 3.5 hours on Saturday wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but it was a massively unusual feeling to suddenly have a whole day to myself. Bollocking Chris only took about 15 minutes, so after a frantic hour of cleaning just so I’d feel productive, I trundled off to Ailsa’s for a relaxing cup of tea and to catch up on all the news I’ve been missing since I became a running recluse.
By Sunday the snow had turned to sheet ice, and despite my anxiety at missing such an important session with four weeks to go, I took the stand that it is better to get there on the day just that little bit less prepared, than have to watch it on my sofa with my ankle in a pot. In anticipation of the ice me and Gill had got through a bottle of rum on Saturday night so its probably a good job I didn’t wake up and it had all been a snowy dream. Anna reassured me too that having the weekend off was OK and that it’d probably make this Saturdays last long run a lot easier having had a good period of rest and I’ll feel much more energetic.
Having said that I’m ready to get out there tomorrow night – I never thought I’d be having 4 consecutive days of rest in monster month, I feel like a right slacker!
So the final preparations are coming together. My final magazine has arrived with all my final information, my running number is here, the sports massage is booked for the week before, and the steak restaurant in London on the Friday night, which I hope will still taste good through the butterflies.
I can’t wait!!!!!!!!!!!!
Going to start making my spectator packs soon, I expect it will be the most over the top, unneccessary thing I’ve created anyone, ever, but I am still looking forward to making them. To be honest I’m sure Ailsa and Kirsty will be fine just wandering around and soaking it up, Mum will just hit the shops then find me at the end, its Chris I’m worried about. It takes at least 3 separate explanations of what we’re doing on a Saturday night before it sinks in, I have visions of him getting stampeded on Tower Bridge whilst wandering around perplexed…
Anyway, I’ve caught up on my sleep, I’ve got a plan for what hours I’m doing at work, and the 4 day Easter weekend approaching may not be the wildest I’ve ever had, but it’ll certainly be relaxing. The 4 week countdown is on.
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