I can run, but I can't hide

I'm back in London after a week in Spain, pondering the impact of my summer holiday on my training programme.

Amazingly, I actually managed to run three times while on holiday. An unprecedented display of self-discipline on my part, I'm impressed by how much this marathon has terrified me into training wherever I am.

I was dreading running in Spain. The heat, the stares, the yappy little dogs - would they be too much for me to stand? In the end, it worked out ok. I did some research online before I went, and found the website of the local running club. Being Spain, this club seems to be only open to men but thankfully they do share their recommended training routes with us chicas so I was able to try that out. Luckily for me it was even my side of town.

It was, as promised, relatively traffic free. I even saw another woman running there, on her own, on the second day. (And the world didn't end, you machistas out there...). It wasn't, however, free of aggressive toy dogs or staring middle-aged Spanish people. Nor was it free of hecklers either ( is this a running landmark? Heckled in two languages?) - my favourite heckle is now being sung 'Vamos a la playa' by a Moroccan teenager on a bike. Beat that, Northolt scrotes...

I tried running about 10.30 on the first morning but there is absolutely no shade at this time of day on this route so tried the next two runs at sunset, which worked much better. The second run, on Sunday evening, was possibly the best I've felt all training. I was fast, I felt fit, I felt like a runner. I was jubilant when I got back - I could really see some progress. The third run brought me back to earth with a bump, as I felt slow, unfit and was riddled with stitches. My own fault for not eating enough during the day, I suspect.

As for eating and drinking, I was of course forced to try out some new carb-loading regimes while out of the country. I ate plenty of salads and fish to combat the high levels of pork and cheese consumption. Pan con tomate for breakfast works a treat, pan con something else for lunch also helps and Puleva Batido de cacao is a fine replacement for recovery drinks back home. I also found a great post-recovery recovery drink, which is Shandy Cruzcampo. The sooner somebody brings that to Britain the better - el rey de refrescos. Of course, you need to make sure you don't drink the milkshake and the shandy at the same time, that would be disgusting.

Admittedly, I can't be too smug. Although I managed to do the right amount of mileage for week 5, I'm now midway through week 6 with only a 4 mile jog under my belt. This is way off the mark for what I should be running this week and I'm away this weekend too. so week 6 is taking a big hit. I've scrapped the intervals for this week (any excuse) and am planning a couple of 5 milers at the weekend and just have to hope I can fit these in round social life

I'm making sure I do my long run though - in fact, it's safe to say I'm obsessed with doing the long runs. My theory is that as long I keep progressing through the long runs, I should be ok if I falter slightly on the shorter midweek runs. This week I'm supposed to do 12 miles, so have decided the only chance I'll get to do this is by running from work to my parents' this evening for my dad's birthday dinner. With any luck, he won't even notice I'm purple in the face and dripping with sweat

I'm looking forward to running a totally different route but yet a familiar one. I'll be running alongside the Thames for a large part of it and under the Hammersmith flyover for a (thankfully) small part of it but hopefully it should notch up the miles enough to keep me fit for Week 7 so I can get back on track

LON