Its the Alloa half marathon on Sunday, so in a bid to practice 'tapering', yesterday was my last real run before then. Tony had mapped out a 7 mile run around the loch.
Considering how bad and dull and grey the weather has been these last couple of weeks, I was pleasantly surprised by the sunshine and mild air. Its a stunning route to run, through wooded areas with a constant view of the loch. Seven miles is something I should find easy at this stage of the game, being able to stick to my chosen pace, and more simply enjoy the run.
Reality was quite different however. I woke up yesterday morning barely able to swallow, glands swollen, throat sore. I also had been stricken with the dreaded 'girly' cramps. I felt rubbish. But in "I feel guilty if I don't train" fashion, I dosed up on anadin extra and set off on my way.
I felt every step of that seven miles, every one painful. I couldn't regulate my breathing, and will even be so dramatic as to say I felt the onset of panic more than once, when it actually felt as if I couldn't get enough air in.
Poor Tony again, listened to my groaning through every mile. Seriously, after all this, the guy deserves a medal. I seriously considered if the hill at the end would sanction my collaspe, but I'm happy to say I made it.
Has that boosted my confidence for Sunday??? Eh..... NO!!!
On a plus side, Tony gave me a massive lucozade bag, filled with shakes, drinks, magic beans (energy jelly beans), gels. If all else fails, I will get a good sugar high.
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