Running 30 Miles In Training For The First Time Ever.
Recently I’ve been gaining glimpses of a peace that I’ve never known before. It stays only momentarily and is replaced by the growls and jeers of a demented old bastard. But it exists and I’ve seen it. The old heavy self comes back once I start thinking again and it leaves me miserable. I’m starting to think this is a choice.
Yesterday was a beautiful day.
I got the train to Bishops Stortford and set out to run back at a pace of 8 minutes per kilometer. This is slow as hell for me but my God does it feel great. I was actually able to enjoy moving for once and could see the sights and I wasn’t in pain. I know some people believe that if you aren’t in pain then you’re doing running wrong, but you know what? YOU ALL CAN FUCK OFF AND SUCK MY HAIRY IRISH TEZZERS.
I run for my own amusement!
My first stop was the Beefeater at Harlow Mill where I took advantage of the free Pepsi refill and used the pisser. I lost any remaining romance I felt for pubs there. Two old men in cloth caps were drinking and swearing like Cockney vagabonds and the smell of piss off them was heroic.
I rested for about 20 minutes and set back out again at the same pace with the aim of finding another nice pub/bar/restaurant/eatery between 5 and 8 miles down stream. This next bit through East Hertfordshire was challenging as the sun became quite strong so I had to slow down to stop myself from bonking.
I always associate the Broxbourne / Hoddeston areas with pain. I used to get the train up to East Herts when I was still drinking and would run through those towns on my long run with a shitty fucking hangover. Luckily this time I just kept on jogging and took the right way down past Dobbs Weir.
I had dinner and Coke outside at The Crown in Broxbourne which is a lovely bar by the River Lea. At this point I was ready to fuck off and quit to the train station but after an hour’s rest I got back on my feet and continued south.
I knew that if I could continue on for another 15km then I’d have completed my first ever marathon in training. Luckily, the rest and dinner had re-energised me and I set out at a faster pace than before. I was so positive that I was gonna make it that I was actually fucking laughing and calling swans “CUNTS!”. It was beautiful.
I crossed under the M25 and I knew I was home. Nothing was gonna fucking stop me.
I was starting to feel the pain once I got back inside the North Circular Road but I did not relent even though by now it was dark and I’d been out there for almost 7 hours in total.
I finished with a half marathon that brought me up to 30 miles for the day which is the longest I’ve ever done in training and it was a great way to spend the day. I want to do it again tomorrow but I’m not sure my knees can handle this anymore.