An Addiction To Feed

L runs off early this morning to get her hair cut and I get my black arm band ready in case the hairdresser goes too mad with the scissors.

As it happens, it’s not too short and very sexy. Good job we’re staying in tonight.

First though some sexy football as Derby crush Charlton 3-0. That play off place is looking ever more nailed on. I just wish they would let us know when it’s likely to be so that I can schedule the rest of my life round it. I have a Half Arsed Ironman to train for, MD has a Crufts Qualifier to train for and L has her new found cycling addiction to feed.

We stay in because of my HAI training, as I’m doing the Derwent Duathlon tomorrow. This has a 9.30am start which when you factor in tonight’s clocks change it's going to be bloody early.

(Saturday 29^th March)

Duck?

I bike again today and tentatively pencil in a ‘run’ (of sorts) for Thursday. My calf started to ache again after Sunday’s exploits, so it’s not exactly promising as regards doing Reading on Sunday.

I'm tempted to get a costume and dress up as a duck or something. Then I won’t be embarrassed for limping in almost last, just embarrassed at being dressed up as a duck, which has got to be better surely?

Now the clocks have gone forward, maybe the dogs and I can get on the park this evening, that is if the council deem that such a thing is allowed and leave it unlocked. They do.

It’s pleasant and it’s a gloriously barmy summer evening, in March. Mark my words it’ll rain all July, as usual.

MD though, is as annoying as usual. He tosses his ball my way, then just as I’m about to pick it up to throw it, he swoops in to pick it up himself and runs off with it again. Hilarious. Not. At least it gets him exercised.

Today is World Whisky Day, on a Tuesday, I ask you... So we decline.

(Tuesday 27th March)

It’s All Relative

Well first we lose an hour in bed due to the clocks going forward and then we head to Stafford for their half marathon. Though again, due to my injury, only L will be competing.

That said, I leave the dogs to howl in the car while I watch the start.

Then as the course does a loop away from the town centre before returning, I wait for L and join in. I’m not sure exactly how far I run but it was over a mile, maybe one and a half and it goes ok. No reaction in my calf. It’s at a slower pace than I usually run at but it’s a pace that actually doesn’t feel too bad at all.

L did tell me to take it gently. Unfortunately, I was doing my sort of gentle when it went in the first place. She quotes me, that I was ‘on for a good pace’. It’s all relative. Good = Gentle. I was about to wind it up when my leg fell off.

Then I leave L to it and run the same distance back to the start, extract the howling twosome from the car. We go to watch the winners finish and then the rest of the race from the pleasant surroundings of Victoria Park.

I’m not sure how L felt about me running with her. I either paced her or annoyed her. I’m not sure which. Her time though is eleven minutes up on last week and her second best of the year but then such wild swings in her performance are not uncommon.

Today I don’t have to request a t-shirt as they were handing them out before the start, along with the race medal. This is of course a cardinal sin of the highest order by the organisers and a massive tempting of fate by anyone who takes one. It also causes unnecessary congestion in the race village. That said it’s a brilliant t-shirt, which I shall wear with unearned pride and a little embarrassment.

Back home, we hit the pubs for the first time since Switzerland, covering pubs supporting Nottingham’s Stout And Porter Trail. We visit the Borlase Warren, the Gooseberry Bush and the Lincolnshire Poacher before at L's suggestion we finish at our favourite cheap and cheerful Indian, the Noor Jahan.

(Sunday 25th March)

I Didn’t Really Want A Hilly Race

The clocks go forwards overnight, which means an hour less in bed. An hour less rest for today’s run, which was a swine to organise. The obvious run today was the one a few hundred yards away on Wollaton Park but the Marrow Run is demanding £38 to enter, that includes £30 sponsorship for their charity. Which is all well and good but we do a run practically every week and can’t afford £40 each time. So despite the petrol costs, it is cheaper to go elsewhere.

There was a race near Stratford, but actually turned out to be way beyond Stratford, about 70 miles away and it was hilly. I didn’t really want a hilly race as training for the Derby 10k, which is very flat.

There was the Newham London Run and we do have the habit of going to the same city twice in a week but on this occasion I think we’ll stay local. Well local-ish, Peterborough was a possibly but it’s full and the one at Tickhill is off road... Which leaves Abbots Bromley, also hilly but only 40 miles away. Cheers Marrow people.

Abbots Bromley turns out to be a good choice; it’s a nice location in the Staffordshire countryside. The race is a small event but a well organised one from the Richard Clarke First School.

After a nice spell the weather has turned quite cold again and I opt for gloves. I also curse the first km, which is mainly downhill on potholed, well cratered actually, country lanes. This forces me in to quite a slow start, which works well, and I actually move upwards through the field rather than my usual backwards.

There after the underfoot conditions are better, all on road but very undulating. I’m happy with my pace but the hills make it unlikely to be a fast time. When Kms 8 to 9 climb quite steadily I look forward to a downhill section that never comes and I’d already seen the finish... the last 200m consists of a tough climb back up the road to the school.

For the last, oooh 7km, I've trying to reel in a lass in a Birmingham Half Marathon t-shirt, without success. I would have though another girl, who runs most of the distance breathing down my neck would help me catch her, as this might even give her the win, but she doesn’t seem to have the legs to do so and nor as it turns out, on my own, do I. Still I can’t argue with 10th place and a time just the wrong side of 43 minutes.

So a good event, although at £15 a bit steep considering there’s no t-shirt, we got a water bottle instead. We’re obviously paying for the chip timing, which is nice to have but for a race of this size not really necessary.

Car parking for the event is provided by several locals pubs, so it only seems fair to thank them for their generosity by popping in for one.

Back home later, I catch up with the last day of the World Track Championships or what few bits are shown between the recapping of the whole week. If the coverage has been disappointing, so have the performances. No matter what positive spin the riders and management try and put on it, things are not looking good. The policy of just focusing on the Olympic disciplines too looks flawed. It may be where their funding comes from but sitting back and watch Australia mop up all the medals cannot be good for morale. Then if we don’t get the Olympic medals either...

(Sunday 27th March)