Training Log Archive: bradc

I was supposed to be racing today, at the Comrie Hills Relay, but had a duff night's sleep and woke up with a throat that felt as if I'd been gargling razor blades, so it wasnae on the cards. Which was a git, as it was a lovely morning and I really fancied the race. Bah, humbug, etc.

Exercise for the day looked as if it was going to be restricted to spending over an hour hacking my way through the lawn/jungle; it was certainly enough to send me to sleep in the armchair for an hour and a half! When I woke up, though I felt that I had to go out and do something, so I went for a slow trundle to BrOfA and back (out via the main road, though I didn't bump into Mad Walking Lady, much to my surprise, and back via the old glen road). Didn't feel too bad but no doubt I will now be struck down by the full force of the lurgh. Bring it on, germs!

C • Mad Walking Lady... 2

C • no Mad Walking Lady 5

Beccy was working all day so I had to take Jamie out of her hair for a bit, and since Janine was still feeling under the weather but needed to get some fresh air, we three went for a wee stroll up Dumyat. Not brilliant weather but, hey, the air was duly fresh, and the chat was good. Nice to be out in such good company!

On the down side, Jamie is definitely getting heavier, my heel was sore, and those cheap boots that were oh-so comfy with their spacious heel before the op are now too big, and always give me a stonking great blister. Very soon they are going to become garden ornaments.

Managed to crawl out for a trundle after a full day in front of the computer. Not really sure if it was a good idea - I had a bit of a sore throat and was generally feeling a bit lacklustre. Beccy has finally succumbed to Jamie's grotty cold, and methinks I am trying to fight it off.

Anyway, the run (up to the Gathering Stane along some very muddy paths) was pants; the HR was far too high for the feeble pace I was able to manage. More worryingly, my achilles was a bit painful; that's the first time it has been sore in ages, so maybe the run on Weds evening post lunchtime circuits was one training session too far. Looks like I'll still have to watch it with the achilles for a while. Bloody surgeon probably stuck it back on with double-sided sticky tape.

Oh oh, working lunch, 2 glasses of wine to accompany... so much better than going out for a run. Oh, and my legs ache.

Time to make up for yesterday. Following in JonX's footsteps, I headed to the uni track to put in 2 sets of 6 x 400m, going off every 2 mins, with a 2 min rest between sets.

Times: 79, 78, 78, 77, 78, 78; then 78, 79, 78, 79, 79, 78.

Chuffed that I managed to stay under 80s/lap for the entire session, that target kept me going from about #8 onwards. I felt as if I was struggling come #9, scraped through #10, just about keeled over on #11, but by jaysus was going to get #12 in sub-80 if it killed me. It didn't, but I nearly barfed. Must have been a quality session.

Track is so much more fun in the sun, although so much less fun on yer tod. Once again I had support from the stalls (the Falkirk football shed next to the track). Next week I'll charge for tickets.

C • Top effort! 4

Some laps at a jog, then drills, before the session, and then a couple of more laps and some sprints to warm down. Stretched out my rather tight left calf thereafter. Don't want to do a Rosco (tough luck, amigo).

WEE, Laigh Hills. When was the last time I did two sessions in one day? Well, this was hardly a session, my legs were utterly dead. It sort of felt like I'd had a proper session down the pub all afternoon. Shuffle shuffle! I occasionally broke into a jog but that was about it. Which was a shame, because Rog had managed to conjure up some decent route choices from a very limited map. Optimum run distance was at least a km longer than the direct line. It was also a shame to be going so slowly because it was a proper minging night, and there's nothing more perversely pleasing than running hard in the pouring rain.

Being proper old school I had brought map bags with me, which meant that I finished the course with a still-readable map rather than the interesting papier mache objects that most squelched home with, hee hee...

Not allowed to go to intervals.

C • Shame 1

Someone woke up in a Deep Blue Funk today, and it was me. Severely loaded under the weight of responsibility and the prospect of two full months of frantically trying to rescue a work project that is already so late that it is starting to decompose, when all I want to do is go climb mountains, head off on the motorbike, sail around Scotland... anyway, I was a right grumpy git, and the only answer was to abuse my lunch break 1 hour window with a nice long cycle.

I pumped up the tyres to 115psi and within 10 minutes was regretting it. Gods, the roads around Dunblane are cr*p. By the time I'd cycled along the back road to Ruskie, my teeth had all jarred out. Then I hit the Aberfoyle/Thornhill road. Dear. God. An obstacle course of craters, gravel, cars whose suspension had collapsed and, of course, lovely Autumn muck all over the "road". By the time I got home, I think that three of my lower discs had compacted into one.

Ah. Great to be back out on the bike. I hear that Lance Armstrong is ditching his zimmer and signing up to do Le Tour again next year. Well, if he thinks he's going to win, he'll have to beat ME first hahahahahaha!!

C • I can tell you've got loads... 3