Hanging in there.
The Joker, as alluded to in the previous post, has indeed run amok in Gotham City, with the result that I have missed another scheduled run, the second in two weeks. Despite this, I managed to pull out a 20km long run this morning which brought my weekly total to over 35km, so it's certainly not a write-off. What is missing is the fine tuning, the tempo runs and the interval training that builds speed, form and that elusive confidence. Instead I have completed sufficient miles, but too many of them are of the 'junk' variety. I hate calling them junk miles, as in reality there is no such thing; they're all important and worthwhile, but I tend to just grind them out and I don't feel anything especially different about it all afterwards.
As usual, I'm over-thinking it, of course. Whatever, the first big test of all this training is the Sydney Half Marathon, now just four weeks away, and here I am with too few long runs in the bank. The 20km outing this morning was my longest run in absolutely ages*, and does go some way to boosting my morale, certainly, and I have to say for the most part it was run very comfortably indeed. The pace was slow, but intentionally so. The last 20 minutes was tough, but not impossibly so. A couple more runs like that one and I will feel a whole lot better about the looming race day.
The weather has finally cooled slightly, with temperatures now down in the low to mid-20s, and the humidity mercifully all but gone. We're still waiting for that first, crisp evening that delineates the seasons by announcing the imminent arrival of winter for a spell. Not that I'm in any hurry, the weather now being little short of idyllic
Conditions weren't so idyllic for the unfortunate Scot, Callum Hawkins on the Gold Coast Commonwealth Games Marathon recently. I watched the whole thing unfold on the final day: saw Hawkins take the lead, open a clear break and then increase it. He was running strongly, and the Aussie Michael Shelley was clearly resigned to battling for the silver medal, and the commentators all but handing the gold to the Scot. Then the first signs of trouble; the angry throwing away of his cap, then the wavering, the stuttering steps, the colliding with the barriers and the first stumble. Then the recovery, the second collision and finally the complete collapse right on the 40km mark. It was tragic to watch, and yet an indication of how even elite athletes can misjudge the conditions and overdo things.
Hopefully nothing quite so tragic will occur tomorrow, during the running of this year's London Marathon. I've a night shift to work, which means I'll get the chance (if things are quiet) to watch it on TV, courtesy of Rupert Murdoch who, despite everything, has given us some televiewing benefits. It's interesting to note that Michael Shelley, who ran past the prostrate Callum Hawkins to go on and win the gold medal, probably has the London Marathon to thank for his victory. The highly fancied and significantly faster Kenyans were absent from the Gold Coast, preferring the lure of big prize money and prestige that the London Marathon offers, over the seemingly lesser glory of representing their country at the Commonwealth Games. Well, given the money on offer, who can really blame them?
At least that's not a choice I have to worry about. Ahem.
And speaking of Callum Hawkins, check this out...
*My longest run since June 24th, last year, to be precise.
April Fuels
