Low five

I'm in week 5 of the training, still running 5 times a week. I'm pretty much fived out, I think.

Two years since my last marathon training, I'd forgotten just how much of a time suck it actually is when you start running longer distances. What with trying to juggle setting up my own business, and this last fortnight sorting out my parents' 40th wedding anniversary party stuff, it's becoming even more of a feat to fit in all the miles.

I'm managing ok, don't get me wrong. But it is that long-forgotten feeling of it taking over your life. Your social life - every social occasion has to be checked against runs scheduled, even a weekend away has to be planned with scope for a run built in. Your home life - every shop contains the requisite amount of protein and carbohydrates, one shelf fully stacked with energy gels and recovery shake mixes, the permanent presence of lycra drying somewhere on the premises. Your love life - all those early starts for long runs really put an end to a long lazy lie in with breakfast in bed, all those evening runs putting an end to nights out midweek.

And as the mileage starts to stack up, now I'm just waiting for the germs to kick in. I'm resigned to the fact I'll get a stinking cold, just like I did when I trained for New York 2 years ago, because I think it is just the body's reaction to the vast increase in weekly mileage. It's just another memory that's coming back to me, another long-buried recollection from the marathon training last time round.

To counteract all these negative memories, I'm putting a photo of me crossing the finish line in Central Park on my desk to remind me of the overwhelming positive feeling you get when you complete the 26.2 miles. That smile tells a thousand stories and puts all the aches, pains, sniffles and increasing laundry bills into perspective. 

LON

It's not always fair weather

It's been a while since I posted - too busy training to blog. This five day a week plan is certainly time consuming, and I'm not sure I could have managed it if I had not been made redundant and taken a freelance route.

I've had a real contrast in my training since my last post. First, I had a week in Spain for a long-deserved break - my first time off since I lost my job. It was lovely to get away but I had forgotten how hard it is to train in the heat. Essentially you have to run very early, or very late - it's not very sociable to be heading out for a run at 10pm when you're on holiday, as it really messes up everyone else's dinner plans, and part of the holiday was to actually catch up on some sleep so I found that most of my runs took place about 11am or 7.30 when it was still at least 25°. It seems weird to be so hot and sweaty while out running at 7.30 in the evening but it's a nice change to experience.

Which is more than can be said for the Spanish dog population. Clearly the new must-have accessory in small town South East Spain is a small yappy dog. Everybody has one. Every dog is aggressive and highly strung. Every dog is freaked out by someone exercising in the heat. And every dog yaps at you. And when one dog yaps, every other dog within a 250 yard radius joins in. Every run set off a cacophony of yaps, where individual Yorkshire terriers try to pretend they are Rottweilers, so in retrospect it was probably a good thing I wasn't running too early in the morning otherwise I would have had the whole town up.

And it's not just the yapping. It's the dog poo. Yappy dogs do very skinny long poos, and Spain does not scoop poop. So every single run has to be done eyes down, watching the pavement for little brown hazards. It's not as if you risk treading in the doggy do - it's so warm, every turd is dried out and hard within seconds. The real risk is kicking them a fair distance and whacking a passing pedestrian with one - as I found out the hard way.

In a way, it was a relief to get home to some new running hazards - this time, puddles and downpours. British summer time seemed to disappear for a week, deciding to christen me with a very heavy shower every time I left the house. Long runs are particularly soul destroying in the rain and it really got me thinking 'What if it's like this in Berlin?'

I've only run one marathon and that was in pretty ideal conditions. What if it pees it down in Berlin? (it did last year,  and someone I know who ran it said it was a nightmare)
Will I really be able to run 26.2 miles in heavy rain?

I've run a half marathon in particularly heavy rain and it was no fun. My time was slow (admittedly I was injured too) and I'm now crossing everything very tightly that the weather gods are kind to me on September 25. I'm such a wuss. Failing that, let's hope that Berlin's reputation as a fast course helps knock the miles out in spite of the weather

Here's hoping...