63.92/500- weights.

I had no evening plans so in light of running a 10k and not feeling shit I decided it was weight night at the gym. That said, I couldn’t resist adding (nearly) a mile to my total. 

Weights suck tho…

Still canny lift. 


53.66/500- aches

I’m not even sorry about my time. I ache. Yesterday had me sore and I still came in to fight again. I am proud of that. 

I also took time in the machines and weights section today. Sadly my reason was because there were less men than normal, which I find intimidating and off putting. More than once I’ve been there trying my best with a 15k load and some guy will be lurking and huffing because he wants to out do that. Thus, when you see weights quieter than normal you take the plunge. 

Also, how good is power plate? Calf massage on a power plate has to be the greatest post run thing ever. I want one. 

46.94/500- reflection

In teaching we are taught to be reflective, both positively and negatively. 

Let’s start positively:

I can run for 7k. 

I can stay on a treadmill for an hour and keep moving. 

Now… the negative: I’ve been lazy recently. I’ve avoided running because I’ve pulled the ‘Im tired’ excuse and my times are suffering as a result. 

7k in 60mins is poor and I need to work harder if I want to beat my october 10k time.

Mixed emotions then. 

Yay and nay? 

Real Running Sucks…

So I’m getting to terms with the weather, the cold, the morning rather than the night run but today I faced a new foe.

Cross country.

After months of pride, track, speed, distance increase and general good stuff I was hit today with a whole new ball game. There were kids playing football on the track so instead of risking being hit in the face with a speeding orb I decided ‘bugger it! To the pavements!’

How wrong I was. So. So. Wrong.

I wasn’t used to slight hills or dips. What was this mud track? Weaving puddles? No! This was a very different course. In my head I mapped out a fairly flat route but even then there was increased elevations. It was murder.

In my head I became sad and angry. Who did I think I was calling myself a ‘runner’ when I could barely cope with this simple route. This was the real outdoors, away from the fakeness of the track, and I was struggling. I wasn’t sure if it was the physical change or the mental change of having to map a route and think distance rather than time, but even while running I was acutely aware than in a race you won’t always have the grace of track. I’m not bloody Dame Kelly Holmes.

In the end I died at 20 minutes, my shortest run for a long time. In truth I’m disappointed in myself, I feel like I should have kept pushing. In reality I was close to throwing up and it was raining, so I should probably cut myself some slack. My true feelings lie a little in the middle.

Keep at it. It always gets easier.

That said, real running still sucks.

Running in Scotland

I’m home. I’ve been back 2 days, sleeping off jet lag and reminiscing about my time out East. It has been cold and damp since I landed in Edinburgh. Summer? Pah!

After a week of holiday in Hong Kong and travel across the globe I decided to lace up my shoes again. I pulled on my clothes after a cup of green tea, 9:20am.

Getting dressed was odd, were clothes going on easier because I was thinner or just not soaked with humidity? I was aware of the weather, should I wear a jumper or just run through it? In the end I committed to a Ramones T-shirt and Capri trousers, pulled on a headband and off I went. Hey Ho, Let’s Go!

The next issue was where to go. Where I live in Glasgow is actually pretty good for race training generally. Flats, hills, country paths, grass, concrete… I had it all. But after running months of track I wanted to keep up the same routine until I settled into the weather. The schools in Scotland are off so I went to my old primary school track.


I had forgotten how scenic it was. The Campsie Fells in the back while the playground grounds were still green and inviting. When was I last here? 10 years, no, more, 15? Damn, age was creeping up on me. That said, as I ran I remembered painful cross country memories. I had always been slower than the sporty girls and when there are only 10 girls in your class that bumps you down the ranks pretty quickly. I still wasn’t fast but I wondered if I could run further than those girls. I never saw any of them any more. I had changed too much over time, we probably wouldn’t even recognise each other.

Again I am useless at calculating distance, so the length of the pitch I ran is unknown. I ran 7 laps in 10 mins, overall 30 mins. All I could manage before feeling jet lag ill again.

While I ran I noticed the cold most. This was a pretty ‘fresh’ day as far as Scotland was concerned. Maybe 12 degrees and overcast. After 28 degrees and humid conditions I wasn’t sure how to feel. No sweat. If I wasn’t sweating was I even working out? My clothes weren’t wet. My hair wasn’t damp. I didn’t wipe my face. I could use my phone still as my fingers didn’t have a film of sweat. For the very first time in my running ‘career’ I wondered if this was good for my muscles, is the cold tightening them needlessly?

The worlds I had experienced were so far removed from each other, so fundamentally different and yet here I was able to perform the same action across the globe. That excited me. After I was finished I felt proud that after a short recovery from East to West I was still able to keep it up. Now… Let’s start training properly!