February 2011

[Sweder]

I may well have rested on my laurels for rather too long.
Waistline timber added over Christmas and during our New Years visit to Florida has cruelly accrued. Having taken a staggering eleven minutes longer (than last year) to lumber around a much easier Medio Maraton course on Sunday there's no doubt 'little and often' will have to apply to my eating and running habits this month.

This morning I opened my February account with a cheeky 5k loop via the foot of Mount Harry. The downs were shrouded in mist, shadowy bushes lurking in the gloom. My legs, battered after their Almerian thrashing, embraced the yielding Sussex mud. Tight hamstrings and sore shins laboured up tricky, slippery slopes, general decrepitude aided and abetted by a criminal lack of training. Reflecting on the weekend I can honestly say that raceday performance aside it ranks up there with the best of them. Goodness knows when I'll get a report written, never mind published. Needs must when the Devil drives; the old bastard has his pedal to the metal just now and no mistake.

Like me, Willow, my trusty black cocker spaniel, has loaded some lard in recent weeks. She struggled to keep up, grateful of the rest as I surveyed the foggy landscape before turning for home. A gang of raucous rooks strutted at the top of Lansport Bottom, screeching a harsh critique of my laboured running style. I gave them a good-natured two-finger salute as gravity drew me slowly home.

Leaning up against our garden fence I watched as sweat fell past my burgeoning midriff to splash across my muddy boots. So much to do, so little time ...