IT seems that miracles can happen, because yesterday I had a good long run and enjoyed it too.
Usually I spend most of the week dreading my long run. I manage to drag myself out but it’s always hard work and seems to take forever. Yesterday was different. My legs felt fresh and full of running. I breezed out of the house and was amazed at how good I felt.
On a normal day, I get half a mile down the road, before my legs feel heavy and I start feeling tired, but yesterday that feeling never came. I floated past my usual fatigue spot, and on I went. I kept thinking that I’d not be able to sustain my pace, and I’d do what I could before I got too tired and then I’d crawl home. But not once did I feel tired.
My pace was around 7.40, which is a long-run record for me (it’s usually 8.30 a mile). I even got quicker, completing ten miles in one hour 18 minutes.
On any other Sunday, I’ll stagger home, open the door and tell Chris how awful I feel and how much I hate running. Yesterday when I got home, I just felt confused about why I’d run so well.
‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘I’ve had a good run.’
‘Never?’ Chris said.
‘Really good! Not sure what happened. It’s a miracle.’
‘You were due a good one,’ Chris said.
I wondered why my run had gone so well. There were two changes to my normal routine. Firstly, Continue reading