Fear. Uncertainty. Doubt.
And not an Elmer J. in sight.
I’ve got a decent case of all of them right now. Especially when it comes to running.
The last month of my life has not been of a particularly good vintage in terms of my general health and wellbeing. Since the middle of June I’ve had pleurisy (mild), bronchitis (medium), strep throat (ouch) and sinusitis (epically bad). I’ve lost count of how much money I’ve EFTed to health practitioners. Seventeen days of antibiotics aside I’ve also lost count of the various medications I’ve chewed, swallowed, sniffed and sprayed. Throw in three visits to the doctor and a wallet-lightening set of chest X-rays and payday can’t come fast enough.
It’s difficult for a naturally upbeat person to remain positive in periods like this so you can only imagine how I’ve fared.
I hit a very low ebb over the weekend and my return to work today didn’t get off to a great start with a splitting sinus headache. I spent the morning battling to focus properly on my screen and left early.
And on the way home I had a moment.
Stop, I said to myself. Enough is enough. You need to get out of this slump (even though, in the words of Dr. Seuss, un-slumping yourself is not easily done).
What I actually said was fuck this for a fucking laugh but that’s just an obvious attempt to get an f-bomb laugh so let’s all pretend I was perfectly couth.
Whatever I may or may not have said I came home and decided to focus on some goals and not let feeling generally shitty keep getting me down.
A couple of months back I signed up for the Cape Town marathon. This event takes place on 20th September and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that I only have a laughable amount of time to get race fit between now and then.
So I guess it’s a case of go hard or go home.
The good news is that after day one of the plan I am 100% on track. Monday is a rest day and I absolutely fucking nailed it.
The remaining 454km (plus 42km for the actual race) may prove a little tougher but hey, it’s in Excel now so it must be real.
The plan is fairly simple. Run five days a week. Four relatively short ones and a long Sunday run.
Sounds easy enough.
This week it means Tuesday (8km), Wednesday (8km), Thursday (8km), Saturday (8km), Sunday (16km). After that the real variable is the Sunday run with the occasional Saturday rest day to complement the regular Monday and Friday rest days. So week 2 sees a 21km Sunday run, week 3 is 25km, week 4 is a 30km race and so it goes on.
I should probably be a lot more scientific and alternate my midweek runs to cover fartleks and hill repeats and tempo runs and all that other stuff that confuses me but to be blunt I don’t give two shits whether I run the 8km bursts or plod them. I just need my legs to get some mileage. Some hours on the road.
Chances are I will fail but maybe, just maybe I can pull this off. At the very least it’s got me in a positive frame of mind for Tuesday and has given me something meaningful to talk about while nailing my 500-words-a-day writing target.
What’s that? You want me to what? Oh. Of course I’ll keep you updated with my progress.
Unless I fail miserably in the first week and then we’ll never speak of this again.