Oh dear, oh dear. Last time I moaned at not having been out for 11 days. This time it’s been 14. Two runs in twenty five days isn’t such good training for a half marathon in less than a month, is it?
It can’t really be helped, though. I’m far more grown up than I’d have you believe – I have two children, a busy job, and I’m in the process of selling my house and buying a new one. Oh, and did I ever mention my knees are a bit creaky?
As ever, it felt great to get out though. I knew it was going to be challenging after another lengthy gap, which is why I took it fairly easy with a gentle pace from the off, but the benefit of that approach is that I’m actually reasonably free of pain right now. (Oh, God, I hope I don’t live to regret that and wake up with knees of fiery chalk tomorrow)
It was quite a nice little trot, taking in my tried and tested route straight from work, and I’m pleased to have resisted the very strong urge to slow to a walk on the steep climb up on to the Scotswood Bridge (both ways). The only lowlight was making a bit of a spectacle of myself when a cyclist’s bell startled me and I nearly jumped into the bloody Tyne in fright, which would’ve been canny disastrous – there’s a very good reason this blog isn’t called ‘Swim, Browno, Swim’.
By now I know better than to say ‘Hey, I think this might be the start of some real momentum guys’, because, dear readers who have stuck with me through thick and thicker, we all know that’s not how this stuff tends to pan out with me. Let’s agree, though, I’ll try and make sure I don’t wait a fortnight before I next lace up my New Balances, eh?
Music: Sleater-Kinney – Dig Me Out