I write this feeling like I have let myself down. I don't train on a Friday, because it's a nice night to come home from work and not execute a 15-minute hot beverage/toast turnaround to go out training. It is a night in which I could, if I chose, watch The One Show followed by Eastenders, or whatever it is the average population member does after work.
A Friday off is normally fine, because ordinarily I train once or twice on a Saturday. However, tomorrow we go to London to eat meat fruit at Heston Blumenthal's restaurant, and to see Cirque du Soleil at the Royal Albert Hall. This means that unless I fancy training at, say, 5:30am, I will be having a Saturday off. A 5:30am start on a Saturday is unappealing, particularly after continuing to suffer the after-effects of not sleeping enough on Andy's 30th weekend (his 30th birthday weekend, not his actual thirtieth weekend. That would make him less than a year old, which would make our marriage socially unacceptable and, moreover, illegal). All of this serves as a pathetic way to say I am taking two consecutive days off. This is why I am disappointed in myself.
So, aside from this, here's the week's training:
Monday - 60 minutes of swimming. Swam well, very hard, nicely elevated heart rate for most of the session. No faster, fitter, men in my lane this week to make me feel inadequate.
Tuesday - should have been a good warm-up run, a speed session, and a good warm-down. On Tuesday I can't deny that I was SHATTERED after the weekend, could hardly stay awake on the way home, had to take a longer route to and from work due to excessively dull roadworks in Darlington, and couldn't be bothered to go out. I therefore modified to do about 25 minutes (maybe even just 20?) warm-up, 4 x 60s fast, and a 10-15 minute jog back home. Better than nothing, but not enough.
Wednesday - 90 minutes of swimming. Used fins for the first 2 x 400m. Naturally much faster, and they made me VERY out of breath. This is a good thing. No-one else enjoys me using them though: the wash remains a problem for the other swimmers. Took them off for the remainder of the session.
Thursday - DFR on tour! This month, we showcased the north east's premier off-road running venue: Cockfield fell. 11 of us met at Cockfield Co-op (where the local youths hang out, on their tiny bikes with their tiny hairless dogs), did an 8 mile run round the fell including all the old slag heaps, and threw a good 6 minute hill rep in the middle. I followed Duncan's feet almost to the top of the rep but I think he had 10s on me at the top, and he didn't appear to be as fatigued as I was. I beat Andy, but he wasn't at maximum effort.
Friday - risotto, braised red cabbage, Celebrations, some crisps.
Other things that have happened this week include the following:
"It was my husband's 30th birthday last weekend."
"Was it? Are you 30 as well Fiona?"
From this I can only infer that I require more sleep, some of that moisturiser that professes to remove all wrinkles after one application, a haircut and perhaps some more highlights.
And the news that not only do I behave like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory (emotionally retarded, unable to understand humour or sarcasm, asexual), but that I also look a bit like him. This is peculiar, because he is a brown-haired American male.
And I lost control of my vehicle on a minor icy road this morning, almost hit a van, but managed last-minute to divert into a gateway and stopped upon hitting the grassy verge. I tried to make it look planned, casual and cool, but I think my heart rate shot up to above 200. Does that sort of heart activity count as training?
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