A race! A race! We like a race!

This week brought a race! First proper one since the relays in October, and it left me feeling suitably stiff-legged so I must have tried hard. Or not prepared properly, one of the two. 


Training in the build-up was without any form of taper: my priority is to get better at running for the fell season from March onwards, so this race was just a play-day out, for 'fun', if such a thing exists in a race. Plus, I was going to a friend's for peanut butter and chocolate cake in the afternoon so I was obliged to do some sort of workout in advance to give me space for at least half a cake.


Monday - 60 minutes of hard swimming. Patrick, an 18-year old who used to be national breaststroke champion, was back from university so decided to come along for the first time in months. For a reason unbeknownst to me he got in my lane, which made me look half the speed I usually do, despite the fact he's well out of condition. It's useful to have such confidence knocks every so often: it gives you something to focus on. Plus, he's so much faster it's almost laughable.


Tuesday - Achilles a bit sore after the first part of Andy's 30@30 on Sunday, so swam again. Pool much warmer than this time last week, but still chillier than is comfortable. 


Wednesday - 90 minutes of swimming, good session, acquitted myself fairly well. For the second time IN 5 DAYS I was likened to someone called Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. This is a programme I have never seen, so I looked him up on Wikipedia. Here are some choice extracts: 'Sheldon exhibits a strict adherence to routine, a total lack of social skills, a tenuous understanding of irony, sarcasm, and humor, and a general lack of humility or empathy. He is vocal about his own superior intellect compared to those around him. Reviewers and fans have speculated that Sheldon's personality traits are consistent with a diagnosis of Asperger syndrome and/or obsessive–compulsive personality disorder and asexuality.' Fortunately I have a bedrock of self-confidence (or Asperger syndrome?) that led me to believe that these people must be wrong, despite the fact this comparison came from two entirely independent sources. I have now ordered Series 1-4 (when apparently I was 'more like him', when he was 'more weird') so I can adopt some more of his appealing traits. I also went to work yesterday dressed like him, with a long-sleeved top under a short-sleeved top. I amuse myself in very low-level ways.


Thursday - running at Hamsterley. Just under 10 miles, including 3 hard 3 minute hill reps. I paced these very badly, like a small primary school child. I ran the first one incredibly fast, thought I might die by the top, then predictably got much slower on reps 2 and 3. Still, was pleased Achilles was fine and pleased overall. Andy faster than me on all of them.


Friday - dinner, banana sponge and rum sauce, rest.


Saturday - 60 minutes of gentlish swimming. Had a glass of wine with dinner: first time I've ever had a glass of wine the night before a race. My tests remain inconclusive. I can't figure out if it had no effect, a positive effect, or a negative effect. Must research further.


Sunday - race in North York Moors. 5.7 miles, about 300m of ascent, first woman and course record by about 90s so very pleased. Found it very hard: it was cold, icy/frosty/solid underfoot, which was quite difficult to run on, and didn't have the flat speed I would have liked (I think this happens to everyone, regardless of how fast you're going). Still, I'm pleased with my time and very pleased Achilles didn't hurt, although there were a few men I would have liked to have beaten. Andy beat me by about 3 minutes so he's pleased to have clearly restamped out the pecking order in our marriage. 


This week Andy's tapering for his 30@30. I'm doing leg 1 with him, which is quite a long way for me and so I'm naturally fairly apprehensive. I don't want to hinder any part of his day out, although he's assured me it'll be slightly slower than the recce we did last weekend... I shall wait and see. One of the more appealing aspects is that when we stop at Kirkstone Pass for soup and chips, I'll get to stay there for as long as I wish and he'll have to haul himself back out for the long hilly leg 2... he's tougher than me, obvs.