The Awkward Tale Of My Last Half Marathon Of The Month
I’m fucking exhausted after all that running. I really am. I’ve been sleeping 14 hours a day and I’m better for it.
I’ve now recommenced my run streak which is up to 93 days. I’ve ran over 900 miles in that time. I’m only doing easy 5ks until the Green Man Ultra on Saturday. Anything more than that would be just stupid.
My last half marathon was almost a complete fucking disaster.
I was jogging around Tottenham Marshes when my asshole dropped out of me. With the pain of the Jaffa Cake vomit run still clear in my mind I stopped my watch and jogged up to Tesco and used their facilities to sort myself out. I could have continued that run but it’d have been terribly miserable. I didn’t want my last half marathon to be marred by brown drizzle either.
I got home and bought 3 cans of Monster Ripper and 2 bars of Fry’s Turkish Delight to help perform a rectal exorcism. I watched a documentary on psychics to help the process along and within 2 hours I was back out on the road again confident that I wouldn’t shit again until the end of the next Olympics.
Short of a stabbing, a bum raping or a sharting, I knew I had enough left to finish my 29th half marathon.
And I did. I ran 14 miles that night and I’d like to lie and say I went the extra mile deliberately. No. I got lost at the top of Green Lanes and had to double back on myself. It was to be my 388th mile in only 29 days.
I really enjoyed the experience of running 29 halfs in 29 days and would fully recommend such a challenge if you’re already comfortable with covering the half marathon distance.
I ran almost all of them at a comfortable pace and the greatest challenge on most days was trying to stop myself from punting stray angry dogs into the River Lea.
Here’s a list of my last 10 activities. I’ll find a way to properly upload a document with all of the stats that you can look at soon.