Easter break...

This weekend was to be a monster training weekend, lots of free Easter time, Tom off work, Tom's training mate Ben G here to stay so they could train hard and me to do similar sessions but on my own... until an absolute hideous run session from hell put pay to things.

I'd already had a tough week with the toughest session on Tuesday. In the morning I swam a pb set of 300's off 5mins 15secs and swimming many of them between 4min 32sec to 4min 40's, my best set yet. A strength session followed and then in the evening the tempo session which I did last year on the treadmill. This week I pushed myself to the edge with Tom keeping me hanging on when I truly didn't think I could. I didn't know if I was going to finish it with 10 seconds to go it was that hard and I couldn't have done it if Tom hadn't of been there to keep me strong. It's not meant to be ridiculously hard but I think a combination of the knock on effect from 'the foot' and the mental confidence knock that resulted in said injury has meant that I fear this session every week. Positively I know I can push the limits when my mind and body are saying no and that's what you need in Ironman if you want to beat the mental demons that seep into your mind when the going gets tough and all you want to do is stop. However, if every Tuesday run session is going to be like this then I'm going to have to change the session because I can't go pushing myself to the very, very edge every week from now until Germany or I'll be broken in half by the time I get there.

Monday & Wednesday were typical sessions for the week and Thursday was the usual 2km speed swim set, strength work in the gym and then that evening a 20 mile run. The weather all day had been pants and wasn't going to improve so it was a case of get out there and get it done. Leaving 15mins before Tom left to do the same route I knew I would see him not long after I would turn around and we would get home at roughly the same time. The first few steps out of the door and I knew it was going to be a slog. My tummy didn't feel great and the wind was horrendous. On I plodded, Camelbak and gel to boot. The route I did was an out and back which meant that for the whole 10 miles out I had a 22mph head wind which wasn't any fun at all. In fact I felt like I would have been quicker if I'd tried to run through a brick wall. It was hideous, I felt queasy and my tummy was all a bit gurgly but on I pushed desperate for the turn around so I could get the benefit of the wind on my back for a change. By the time I got to mile 9 I felt like crying, the wind was just relentless and it was making the whole thing so so hard. I wanted to turn back then and there but I thought what the hell, I'd run for 9 miles in it, another 1 to mile 10 wasn't going to make much difference. I was more broken than a broken thing when I did turn and all I could think was that in roughly 1hr and 20 mins I would be home, warm, dry, away from the wind and it would all be over. I passed Tom at about mile 11 as he plodded his way to miles 9 & 10. We both pulled sad faces as we passed each other. I was on my way home, Tom still had a mile and a bit in that wind. I was running so slowly I knew Tom would eventually catch me before I got home. I really wanted to stop but walking would have prolonged the misery so I just kept thinking one foot in front of the other (and don't poo your pants.) I couldn't even stomach the idea of taking the gel my tummy was a gurgly queasy washing machine. I got home surprised that Tom hadn't caught me and wondered if he was having a similar nightmare to me, only Tom tends to have a much more sensitive stomach than me. I waited 10 mins before jumping in the car to see if I could find him, he should have been back. About a mile and a half away from home I saw his little luminous gillet bobbing slowly down the road and I pulled over to see he was okay. My run had been a doddle compared to his. My stomach had felt dodgy but it was okay. Tom (& I'm sure he'll talk about it in his entry) had endured a nightmare of a run and was broken. He wanted to finish what he'd gone out to do and as much as I wanted to drag him into the car and just get him home my heart went out to him because he'd suffered for most of the run and didn't want to let it beat him by stopping 1 mile away from home.

It seems like we've both picked up a stomach bug. I've got a fairly strong constitution though and apart from being exceptionally tired on Friday (which we turned into a complete rest day) I was okay. Tom however has had a very bad stomach since and is still not right now. I also decided to take Saturday off as a complete rest day too because I felt like after such a battering on the Thursday that one day just wasn't enough to recover.

Today's pic is of me & Ben G on the turbo's in our garage. We did an hour interval set then ran 8 easy miles off it and it was good to get out after a couple of days on the settee in front of junk TV. I'm glad that this weekend hasn't turned out to be as huge as planned because I think I needed the break both physically and mentally and I feel good for it.

Tom is still a poorly boy though so I'd better get back to him and peel him some grapes!!!

Week 6 is about to begin and I hope I have fresher legs and head to start it with.

Happy Easter all...

H. xx