March 2005 - Episode One: A New Hope

[Sweder]

Time of day: 18:20 hours
Location: Seaford seafront, home of the Seafront Plodder
Duration: 56 minutes
Conditions: Cold, breezy
Companion: Seafront Plodder

An inconclusive test of recent injuries, this. Inconclusive in as much as I've had no discernable adverse reaction except for the slightest tightening in my hamstring. No real pain, but a gentle reminder that all is not peachy in this department.

The run itself was a pleasure. First time out in over a week, good company, SP apprehensive as he too had been off his feet for a while and had just announced his decision to defer London ‘till next year. We set off at a most leisurely pace, wind at our backs heading East, sea to our right. Ahead the mighty Seaford Head rose in the near darkness, snow clinging to the crest almost luminous in the encroaching night.

We chatted casually about this and that, all the while my highly trained sensors sweeping my right thigh for signs of trouble. A mile gone and we paused to stretch out below the cliffs. As in Almeria SP and I suffered the fashion faux pas of turning up in matching yellow windcheaters. A third runner appeared from the gloom, also identically attired. We looked like extras in a Fyffe’s commercial.

Thoroughly stretched and cooling quickly in the night air we turned and started back into the biting cold wind, keeping steady pace at around 11 minute miles. This piece of seafront property is an ideal testing ground, being pancake flat and well paved. Any injuries making an appearance on this circuit would have to be taken very seriously and would almost certainly rule Sunday’s Reading Half out of the equation.

As I swept for hamstring pulls, SP focused on his calf. Lower limb pain had almost forced SP to retire from the Brighton Half at the end of February (though he gamely finished in a respectable time). As it turned out we both completed the pre-agreed 5 miles without undue concern, but each with a reminder of our recent ailments. SP’s calf did start whinging, although it never reached Andy Robinson proportions. And my hamstring, without intruding on my progress, continually whispered to remind me of its presence.

Today, in the warmth of my office, I can still hear the whispering. I am obliged to approach Reading as I did Brighton, with extreme caution and prepared to withdraw at the first sign of trouble. I plan a dart out tomorrow night (another flat 5 miles or so) which should smoke out any serious setbacks. Fingers, toes and hamstrings crossed.

During the jog SP reminded me of Andy’s remarks concerning ‘fitness credits’ and how we ‘spend’ them; saving them up for a major run, or cashing them in directly for beer. I wonder if you can guess what we did last night?