As I woke on Saturday morning I could hear wind howling around the house and rain beating against the window. Not again, I thought. Perfect morning for a run! my boyfriend said. All sorts of excuses ran through my head but I knew I would just go and do it. 6 miles was on the agenda, last long run of the plan. I wasn’t sorry about the distance.
Despite the rain and wind, it was actually quite warm at the start and I was in short sleeves and sunglasses before long. I managed to avoid the wind on the outward leg but when I turned at 3 miles it hit me in the face. Literally. The trauma of last week was still fresh but I kept going.
At about 5 miles it started to rain, really lash. I looked like a crazy person, short sleeves, sunglasses, rain jacket tied around my waist. I was too wet and hot to put it on at that stage. I was soaked, but instead of crying I actually felt like laughing, it was ridiculous to be out in those conditions but I was happy to have another chance to prove to myself that I am resilient and that I can cope with most things in a run. I was going to call to the shop on the way home but I couldn’t drop all over their floor, so I went straight home, cutting the run short by .3 of a mile. I don’t like not finishing the distance but given the conditions I forgave myself.
My calves felt tight and sore during the week so I have been stretching and foam rolling and my main objective this week is not to get injured. And not to forget my passport. Happy St Patrick’s Day. This paddy is ready for London.
