Crosstraining with piggy-in-the-middle

August 7, 2009 at 10:04 pm | Posted in Stuff | Leave a comment

beach2An hour hilly run up to Stoke Woods and back at lunchtime meant that the evening’s chasing the short people round the beach was a bit more hard work than it had any right to be. And being a bit fish-and-chippy didn’t help.

I still won though.

And this weekend marks four weeks in to coast2coast training, with seven weeks left. Allowing two weeks for a bit of a taper, that means I’ve only got five weeks left to add some fitness.  I think there will have to be some double piggy-in-the-middle efforts, and maybe even some brick sessions by playing “it” as well…

beach3

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A dam and a blast

August 3, 2009 at 10:21 pm | Posted in Run | Leave a comment
What dam?

What dam?

One of the things that adds a bit of surprise to life is how things look and feel so different when you approach them from another direction. On Sunday, I went for a marvellous-tiring run around and about Holne and Dartmeet, and coming back we came up to the steep end of the dam at Venford reservoir.

I’ve never been to that side of the reservoir, I didn’t even know there was a dam there (I’m not sure what I thought kept the water in, just sealing-wax and faith I suppose).

And in a bit of the same way, the day before that I approached the Great West Fell Race from the alternate direction of a two-hour bike ride beforehand. And, pleasingly I managed both the bike ride (two hilly hours and 32 miles to above Merrivale) and the race without completely dying on my arse (I saved that for the easy Sunday run).

And it was nice to be cycling with some strength up the hills (sitting down, saving my running-uphill legs if not my running-downhill ones), and still then running with some enthusiasm, if not speed, as well.

And in my life before I was edged into entering the Coast2Coast, I would have followed the bike-run epic with a lazy Sunday, but now it was a two-hour run with lumpy granite in my legs (but a smile on my face) and a hare up ahead of me to chase.

By happy chance though, the hare was timidus on the steepest falling-descents that I love, so I escaped with some pride intact, if not my legs and my wobbly ankles.

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