I’d like to insert an image
of Edvard Munch’s The Scream,
but I suspect it is copyrighted.
I think you can imagine it.
OMG, only six more long runs to go before race day. I so don’t feel anywhere near prepared. In fact, a bit concerned I’ve picked up a bit of a niggle. In technical language this is, my physio says, hamstring and adductor. I have (more) stretches to do. In addition to the ones she gave me last time and that I’d omitted to include in the glute exercise regime I was given. Will that come back to haunt me? I do hope not. Told you there’d be a stretching post (and this isn’t it).
It doesn’t really help that my run over the weekend was as tough as anything. Or maybe I’ve just been really lucky up ‘til now. I looked at my watch – during a run – for the first time. I haven’t done that before. Normally I run then see how long it’s taken. I was so struggling. And in pain. More than discomfort anyway, which I kind of gather gets to be a long-run companion after a while.
I’ve been planning my long run routes around Winky, sort of creating the spokes of a wheel, so that I’m always close-ish to home in case anything unplanned happens. At the weekend, I came into Winky on one of the spokes with virtually nothing left in the tank; and hurting. I thought I’d done about 13 miles, of the 23 I’d got planned. I decided I was going home. My watch said 2hrs 25mins. It was enough. And, do you know, it must have been because I haven’t beaten myself up in the slightest for not finishing my targeted 23-miler. Flipping exhausted. Fell asleep in the bath. Fell asleep out of the bath. Haven’t done either of those for a bit. Managed to fuel up (eat) within 2 hrs 20 mins. Close enough frankly. I’m doing my best.
Anyway. OMG. That is all.
Apart from I always think of OMD when I say/write OMG. (70s/80s pop reference if you’re unsure).