We returned from Valencia on Monday evening but didn’t get home from London until yesterday evening. This is my explanation for my late training report. I wanted to get it out of the way because I don’t want you to think that I’ve been slacking.
Although I have been slacking. I managed a mere 8.7 miles last week as it was just one of those weeks. What it did mean was that my Achilles on my right heel, that began getting sore when my old shoes had totally given up the ghost, is almost completely better, so that is a bonus.
I did have a vague thought about running barefoot on the sand in Valencia (in my head it would be in slo-mo Chariots of Fire style). The beach was beautiful, and before the sun was up, it may well have been doable. During the day, however, it was so scorchio that I needed to wear my sandals right up to the water’s edge before getting into the sea.
No running on the beach but I did manage one three miles at around six in the morning on the Saturday when the air was bordering on cool. As I was finishing, the sun was rising, and it was so beautiful, that I decided to stay in the apartment and take photographs on Sunday morning because I hadn’t run with my phone. That decision to stay in was helped by the half-bottle of wine during the Flamenco on Saturday night. I hadn’t realised just how dramatic Flamenco dancing could be, and how similar to Indian music it is, but I suspect there is a uniting thread in most folk music.
Where we stayed was just outside of Valencia proper, in some apartments by the sea and next to a marina. There were twenty-four of us in total, consisting of aunts, cousins, sisters, sisters-in-laws, nieces, and Anne and me. One of my cousins had turned sixty and wanted a weekend with the ‘girlies’ to celebrate, and as our family is quite large it turned into quite a shindig.
My normal plan, when visiting a new place is to go and explore, especially the architecture. The temperature was in the thirties however (Celsius) and I just don’t know the last time the sea felt warm enough for me to get up to my neck in it – I am not one of those cold-water dippers. On top of that, there were no jellyfish, the floor went down very gradually, and the waves remained calm because the tide hardly came in or out. I wouldn’t normally consider myself a beach bum, but this weekend I finally saw the attraction. I swam a little, though not front crawl, and to be honest I was mostly floating or bobbing up and down or playing catch with a tennis ball. It was utterly relaxing.
Which is why I need to regroup now, at thirteen weeks out, and get back in the saddle.
Week Three of Sixteen
| Mon | 40 mins weights and mobility – then one grandchild all day |
| Tue | Two grandsons all day – didn’t manage running club |
| Wed | Track Running – which I cut short because my Achilles started to complain. |
| Thu | 40 mins weights and mobility |
| Fri | |
| Sat | A gentle 5K around holiday neighbourhood |
| Sun | |
| 8.7 miles total |
theleadlesspencil 
Great – time very well spent.
PS I expect that not running barefoot was a good idea as the smaller the heel drop, the more stress it puts on the Achilles (I think).
That was at the back of my mind, but mainly it was laziness!!