‘Thwack … pffft.’
The metal flap of our letterbox slammed back as the thin, white envelope dropped on the door mat. I was having a quietly crunchy five minutes with a cheese and salted crisp sandwich when the delivery woke me from my reverie. Inside the envelope was my Four Villages (Helsby Half) race number. It was really going to happen.
Yesterday I had attempted a ten miler and managed nine and a half. Not bad you might say, but my calves were leaden by seven and my heart rate rocketed for the last section, even though I walked a lot of it, and slowed the running bits even more than normal. I didn’t need a posh watch to tell me this; my breathing, or rather my raspy gasps told me everything.
I looked, just now, at the last time I’d run anything close to ten miles. It was during my actual marathon in mid-October. No wonder my muscles were having a serious case of amnesia.
Quite a few of my running buddies have been selling their places for this sold-out race because of injury etc. and I am wondering why I haven’t flogged my own yet. When I know that I haven’t trained properly for it and when I know that my body’s going to find it really tough going. I could have gone to the pictures with my reimbursement and then built myself up gradually instead of all at once in this post-lard, three-week, crazy-short window.
Truth be told, I’d underestimated how quickly your body goes south when you don’t use it, and I’d become a bit blasé because of my two full marathons last year. However, I’m back on the wagon now, and despite that fact that it is going to hurt, I’ll pin this number to my vest on the 21st. If nothing else, it will be a training run for the Village Bakery Half that I appear to have booked a month later. Glutton for punishment much?
theleadlesspencil 
You describe your body’s post Christmas sluggishness in some memorable phrases and with your characteristically engaging self-depracatory wit. I know I’m reading someone in the same ballpark era as me when they write about ‘going to the pictures’. I wonder what a Gen-Zedder would think you were talking about? Best wishes for the training and the eventual race.
I’m always amazed that, when I talk to a young person, we can understand each other!
My experience as a secondary school teacher has stayed with me in that respect!
I have literally just been exchanging messages with my 15 year-old niece in Australia who had just finished a novel (‘Prima Facia by Suzie Miller) and wanted to tell me about it. It’s past midnight where she is.
You must be the cool uncle!
Never saw myself in that role but I’ll take it!