Run(/life) Lesson - Do not eat all the food

The runner lessons continue. I think this learning process is as much a reason for training as the physical fitness. Learning the precise ways in which you are stupid really prepares you for challenges.

Lesson 1: drink while running (water specifically...see Number 2)

Lesson 2: Don't drink wine. While running, or before running, or for a week before, or at all maybe.... 

Lesson 3: Don't eat all of the food. And when I say "all of the food" I don't mean on your plate, I'm all for plate clearing (I might do well to change my attitude on that one...). I mean all the food in your house. And your shopping bags that you have just filled with food.

This past weekend was my 12 miler. The pinnacle of my training before "the taper" (not the tapier, zoo-friends, though that might be a fun introduction to training. I like to think I could outrun a tapier...but I'm not sure. I might start my animal racing against a sloth, or a penguin, on land). 12 miles...I'd run 8, slowly but surely, then 10 on the brink of death by dehydration, I'd been running a little bit faster this past couple of weeks, maybe thanks to my new slip-slidey leggings and bouncy shoes. I was starting to consider 5 miles "just" 5 miles. I think I was ready. I'd practiced eating a whole bag of jelly babies (not while running, just throughout the day...it's good to be prepared, all the running articles say so), I'd decided my route (twice around Spiggie with a wee bit added on) I'd even practiced wearing my new running pants (while running, unlike the jelly babies).

I made myself a little water/baby hiding place, parked up, sneaked into the Hotel for a final nervous pee, and I was off. And knowing I had such a long way to go, and that I probably could do it, settled me, and I felt fine, why bother being grumpy when you have to endure yourself for another 2 hours? 

Then halfway round, as I thought to myself, I have been so lucky with my training, I've had almost no problems bar laziness, and the weather really has been fine dry, sunny, not windy, an apocalyptic darkness followed me up the Spiggie Hill and engulfed me...well, it was a cloud, a big black nasty cloud. With rain in it. 

And then came the runner's belly. 

Unfortunately this was not the sudden appearance of a taut six-pack which I felt compelled to go home and admire, but the rapid onset of a desparate need for facilities. The kind that deal with an urgent, jumbly, gurgly, rumbly, horror.

And so I had to stop...I wasn't ill, so within an hour or so I felt a lot better, but by that time I had to be on my way elsewhere, so I had a short...8 hour...lets call it a "walk break" where I took on some lunch, coffee and cake, and bought some new running socks to make myself feel better. 

I ran another 6 miles in the evening, but I'm not sure a 12 miler run over two legs is really what the training program called for...maybe I can opt-out on the half-way of the race, pause on the outskirts of Edinburgh, take in some sights, have a light brunch, maybe a glass of wine and a chat, then rejoin for the second half. That is apparently what I've been training for...I'd need to duck out of the way of the sweepy bus, and record a 10hour PB. 

Maybe I'll just have to suck it up and get on with it. At least I know now not to eat all the food. Which of the foods to eat is a different question...one I've not entirely answered. Never mind the pants, socks and jelly bubs (which I didn't get to eat, by the way) what about the belly?

Belly's gonna get ya...

I got out for my recovery run last night, and I think I'm getting faster, or more tolerant to fast, which is not how recovery runs are meant to go. I just can't slow down, who'd have thought I'd be too fast come the end of 10 weeks...? I think I'm just eager to look like a proper runner, vanity when people drive by. Vanity, the belly, inappropriate pants - there are so many hidden hurdles...

I did spend a little bit of my run chasing the Peerie Viking man who has inexplicably started going for walks. For anyone who doesn't know my big hairy better half, the first time we went for a walk, a couple of years ago (I could count on three fingers how many times it had happened since, until the last few weeks...), a local taxi driver did a full on emergency stop, and screechy reverse, to enquire as to his welfare, assuming we must have broken down, or driven into a ditch and be walking for help. He would not believe we were out for a walk. Yes a walk for leisure. No we do not need assistance. Or a lift, we definitely do not need a lift. So this is quite suspicious, laudable, but unexpected behaviour. I love it.

It is so much fun chasing someone. I totally caught him, and Whhhhhoooooooppppaaaaaahh'd his bum on my way by. To be fair to him he was walking, and didn't know I was chasing him, To be fair to me, I'd have caught him anyway...

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