As it was written, so it came to pass. A third gentle marathon running around in circles before being able to go home with a clear conscience. No drama experienced and everything flowed by more smoothly that it had on the previous two days. The pacing was even throughout the run and there were no aches, something of a miracle in my own mind. I expect the decision to break each of the runs with regular short walk breaks kept the pain at bay and the relative freshness in the legs.
The journey home did not become the two hours of calf cramping that I had feared but instead a troublefree drive along sluggish motorways while grazing on good snacks and cans of ginger beer. A day later and the legs are still my own and the hammer of tiredness has not fallen. For a stupid couple of hours I had entertained the idea put forward by my ego to attend the weekly running club speedwork session. Fortunately I have spent much of the previous three days thinking over some of the common mistakes made in running and general training. One of my favourites being that training sessions themselves are not what makes you faster (or stronger, or whatever it is that you are training toward), but it is rather your bodies adaptation to that training. The way that you fuel yourself, the way that you rest, the way that you do not go and beat yourself up flogging a dead horse around a track for an hour. I am still struggling to balance the probably fact that sitting and watching TV and eating has been the right thing to do this evening. At least I did not open the giant packet of hobnobs.
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