Ha!
I wish.
These days I can barely manoeuvre my body into the shape required to muster up a half decent hamstring stretch.
No, the splits to which I refer are due to the way I‘m having to go about my runs.
As the world opens up again we have returned to our regular daytime hours in work. Being only 3 miles away, it’s perfect for days that have a 10k or similar on the plan - I just split the run, 3 miles to work in the morning, 3 miles home in the latter part of the afternoon.
I’m enjoying it.
My carbon footprint sits easier on my shoulders when I’m travelling to work like this, and the exercise gets done with a truly minimal impact on my free time (cycling the 3 miles to work takes roughly the same time as driving, and running takes about an extra 10 minutes, that is all).
Volume, I have read many times, is the key to successful marathon training.
Once, just once, I would like to stand on the start line feeling ready to give it a real good go. All too often now, the big day has come, and I have stood there, at the back, my favourite starting position, saves me the bother of warming up, filled with a sense of impending doom.
The thought of what is about to unfold over the next few hours, as I try to run, on injured legs, over 26 miles without stopping…
That trepidation hasn’t beaten me yet, but it’s come close.
I have that same sense dread every time I’m facing the weekly long run. My Stomach churns, my mind races with all the things that are going to go wrong, the tender spots in my long since damaged Achilles’ tendons ache with a special vigour they reserve for these long run days. My bowels tie themselves up in knots, if it was up to them, I’d spend the whole day enduring the discomfort of the toilet seat rather than dealing with the steadily increasing pains that come when you push your body beyond what is comfortable.
I am a swan.
I know it from comments people make to me.
They think it is easy.
I make it look easy.
The battles and furious paddling below the surface I cannot show to the outside world.
(never said I was elegant or beautiful)
If I let my internal battles show, those who love me and care about would question my wisdom, and more than likely, their questioning would persuade me to stop.
But I would suffer more if I was to stop.
Resilience seems to be an under-rated asset these days.
Facing up to these long run battles toughens my mind, strengthens my resolve, equips me to walk into other difficult situations with a confidence that comes only from knowing you can face a struggle, walk into a battle, take one on the chin sometimes maybe. You can’t predict the results, but you can know that whatever they turn out to be, you’ve faced tough times before and got through them, and you can do it again, and again, and again.
Perhaps long run days are here for us to channel our inner Captain America.
Good job. Cause they feel like they take all day sometimes.
Anyway, last time I actually felt fit for a marathon was in 2013.
London.
I’d done all my training on hills and fells, but I was fit, my lungs were pulling more oxygen in than they’ve ever pulled in my life, and my legs had a bounce and spring in them that could pop me straight over a fence without having to bother about using a stile.
Being that fit feels awesome!
Doesn’t produce the fastest marathon times, hip flexors cramped from 22 miles makes it hard to get to the line.
Feels like a long time ago now.
6 days later I was running the Yorkshire 3 Peaks and had a lovely run out that day doing that.
A lot of injuries since then, and a spell of thinking I’d not be able to run again at all. Still, I’m at it, doing the training, volume if not the specific training of the all important long run.
Yes, the last two weekends, even they have had to be split.
Life demands last weekend.
Unusually hot weather this.
No point flogging yourself over 20 miles in the heat; dehydration will likely do more harm than good.
13 today then, 7 tomorrow.
Marathon number 1 is on August 14th, a run/walk good day out exploring the countryside and the views of the lovely Shropshire Way.
The main target though is October.
Loch Ness.
Keep that training volume up until it is time taper down, and then have a good go at something at which I am likely to fail.
You don’t know if you don’t try though.
At 49 years old, I’ve got a previous fastest marathon time that I still believe I can beat.
Just before I smashed my knee falling off Yorkshire that was. Think there’s room for one more medal amongst that lot.