A Superb 40 Mile Week After Recovering From My Low Carbohydrate Ordeal.
On Thursday I had a low-carb shit. After spending 7 nights on less than 50g of carbohydrates, my digestive system was in mutiny.
It took 40 minutes of pushing for me to splash out a few pebbles. It was worse than childbirth. The thing is at the time I thought I was shitting royally. In fact my main concern was blocking the toilet and flooding the bathroom for the 2nd time in a fortnight.
Thank God the family I’m staying with were out at Church. I didn’t want to have to explain what was going on if they came knocking half an hour into my ordeal.
It all ended with a fart. And then movement. Serious fucking movement.
10.7 miles in the rain.
After that shit I almost felt like I was reborn.
I went out and headed North as part of some sort of natural homing instinct after the trauma.
I ran up past the Walthamstow Stadium and just followed the road up along Chingford Mount until I found myself at Station Road. I turned back and decided to turn the run into a speed session and managed to record an average pace of 9:09 min/mile over 10.7 miles.
A super run.
18.25 miles in Epping Forest
Running in London hasn’t been great really in terms of scenery. Everywhere you go seems to be a concrete jungle.
My 18 mile run on Saturday was a welcome change.
After running out to South Chingford on Thursday night I followed the same route but this time kept going past Chingford Station. I followed Bury Road and entered Epping Forest and it was great jogging around the trails without any drivers or other bastards to annoy me.
I was gonna quit after 16 miles as my right tit was seriously leaking blood through my yellow running shirt but some guy who looked really like Sheffield Wednesday’s old Dutch winger Regi Blinker, looked me in the eye and said to me ‘You can do it boy’.
I nodded at him and said ‘thanks man’. It was almost like a spiritual experience. I thought about it for a while and convinced myself that Christ was back and using the Dutchman as his avatar in an attempt to win over my heart.
Thanks Regi / Jesus / or the nice man from North London who gave me encouragement when I really needed it.
Today I woke up in a really bad mood. I kept choking in my sleep and had a nightmare where I was running laps of the Channel 4 ‘Countdown’ studio set and was threatened and then punched by security for stinking out their place of work.
My aim for the day was to run 11 miles but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do it over a single run so I set out to try to do 2×5.5 mile runs.
I dunno how but I had some serious fire in my legs and carried on for 8.4 miles at an average pace of 9:08 min/mile.
I celebrated by buying a half bottle of Lambrini and some chicken for dinner.
This left a ‘simple’ 5k for the 40 mile week.
I set out on my 5k with a belly full of chicken and Lambrini and began to feel nauseous from the start.
The best thing about the 100k experience is that I now know that I can work through pain and succeed if I just keep going forward. I did that today and recorded a 5k in 28 minutes around Walthamstow.
It ended with some cunts kicking a football at me and missing by a mile. I wanted to shout ‘THIS IS WHY YOUR NATIONAL FOOTBALL TEAM IS SHIT!’ but that would have been a bit ironic since I’m from Northern Ireland.
But fuck it. What a bunch of cunts.
And what a good week for running.