ATTENDING the IAAF World Championships in London was an amazing experience, but it caused havoc with my own training. For the ten days of the championship I did very little running. I was too busy enjoying chips, ice cream, popcorn and minstrels whilst cheering on the GB team.
I decided that a home championships was a once in a lifetime opportunity and it really didn’t matter if I missed training and ate a few treats. This is, of course, after already taking weeks off training to enjoy our wedding and honeymoon. ‘We might as well keep in holiday mode,’ I told Chris. ‘Just keep going and pick up the pieces when we get back.’
Chris didn’t take much persuading.
The main thing is that I did complete some training, enough to burn off the extra calories (well some of them anyway).
You can read week one’s training here.
Week two (31st July to 6th August)
Monday. I was ready to run, but had a big dilemma to solve. We’d won tickets to the world championships thanks to Muller yoghurt, but as it was short notice we were struggling to find someone to look after our dogs, especially as it’s August and everyone is on holiday. All our usual carers were fully booked. After a lot of help from the owner of the PetStay company, we managed to find a couple in Huddersfield who were willing to help. We just had to go and meet them first and they lived miles away. It was a two-hour trip, not to mention time with them getting to know the dogs. Not enough hours in the day to fit in a run.
Tuesday. I was ready to run, but had a sports massage appointment. After finishing work I mucked out and fed my horses then went for a massage. It turns out that I was in desperate need of the massage. My back and calf muscles were in a state.
Wednesday. I ran. Unbelievable I know! Chris and I headed to the trail and did a tempo session which included a fifteen-minute warm up, followed by three sets of eight minutes at tempo pace with a two-minute recovery, finishing with a fifteen-minute jog home. It wasn’t pleasant.
Thursday. Another running day. I joined my friends for a grass fartlek session in the local park. The efforts varied from ninety to fifteen seconds. I’d trained yesterday, so made sure I didn’t do too much.
Friday. A rest day! I love my Friday rest day. In the evening we went to The Talbot, a pub in the next village. I’ve never been before and I didn’t think we were going here this particular evening. I was heading to another pub entirely, but there was a last-minute change of plan. Once there, I went for the healthy fish and veg option, followed by an unhealthy enormous chocolate brownie and ice cream.
Saturday. We were going to the world championships and had a train to catch, so I got up ridiculously early and went for a six-mile run, including thirteen one-minute efforts. I then undid all my hard work with a Subway sandwich and packet of crisps at the train station.
Sunday. No running. We watched the men’s and women’s marathons at Tower Bridge in London before heading to the Queen Elizabeth Stadium in the evening, where we indulged in fish and chips before enjoying a night of athletics (more to follow on our London trips).
We returned home early Monday morning. My feet were blistered and sore from walking miles in shoes that I thought were comfortable, but actually weren’t. I was also a little anxious about the dogs and hoped they’d been behaving themselves. When we drove to Huddersfield the couple were smiling. ‘They’ve been great,’ they said. ‘Archie even watched the athletics.’
‘He always does,’ I said, feeling proud of my dog. This is not a feeling I’ve had very often with Archie, but when it comes to athletics, he absolutely loves it. He sits right in front of the screen and genuinely seems to enjoy it.
He’s an athletics super fan!