Eighteen miles

So it happened: the LONG run. 

It was long – eighteen miles of trotting – not as long as I had initially hoped, but long enough to give me the confidence that a) I’ll be fine on 25 March shuffling around Barcelona, and b) I needed new trainers.  Both important points, but the second was slightly desperate as the dearth of running advice out there shrieks that if you don’t break your trainers in weeks in advance of the marathon, your feet will essentially fall off.  I jest…obviously the advice not to run in brand new trainers is very valid, but if one person who has never run further than two miles winces when they spot the new trainers in my office and tells me that I should have run in them by now, I might scream.

Anyway, I digress…the run was good on the whole.  I had been rather ill on the Saturday; in fact so ill that I had been told by a couple of trusted sources not to run this weekend at all.  I did the obligatory google search of “running with a cold” and came up with completely contradictory advice on whether to head out on the Sunday.  One side told me that if it was “above the neck” (mine was – sore ears, throat and cold) then I’d be fine but shouldn’t do too far; the other side that any long distance with any kind of illness would be hugely detrimental and I was being ridiculous.  I definitely couldn’t do anything on Saturday – I almost fell asleep drinking two flat whites when I finally dragged myself out of the house – but I was determined that I was going to be better and would be out running on Sunday.  After an afternoon of moping on the sofa and generally being a misery, I suddenly felt a thousand times better just before we headed out to see Simon Callow in Being Shakespeare.  Whether it was the healing power of the shower (and the 300+ vitamins I had been chowing all day) or the thrill of one of the best performances I have ever seen, I felt a thousand times better returning home that night after a late sushi dinner. 

Sunday dawned and I went for more coffee trips after listening to The Archers (yes, I’m an old lady in a runner’s clothing) and then decided to just head out on in the afternoon and see how far I could do.  I wanted to practice in my “marathon vest” and with the hydration belt (even typing that makes me laugh as it seems so ridiculous….but entirely necessary) and although I didn’t get to Tower Bridge as planned, I did manage to get to Blackfriars without punching any tourists along the South Bank (huge achievement).  Eighteen miles in just under three and a half hours *boom time*.  This was dead on my marathon pace and slower that I have been doing my shorter runs during the week, which had been my main aim for the whole exercise.  So I was pleased.

Things to remember for the marathon:
a) running in sunglasses makes you feel like a ninja so make sure you remember them for Barcelona
b) running in leggings in the heat will make you like you’re boiling alive so make sure you wear shorts
c) compression leggings help after long distances even if the affect is psychosomatic
d) running along the South Bank on a Sunday afternoon is good practice for swerving marathon crowds
e) drinking red wine with professional athletes who have just done Olympic trials is awesome.

Nice days until touch down in Spain…..