Have I mentioned before I hate running in wind? Yeah, I probably have once or twice. This weekend was yet again another opportunity to run against the wind so I wasn't looking forward to feeling the same as I did the week before when I had bailed out before 7 miles. I looked on the local forecast to see the wind was blowing from the West... oh deep joy... that's the direction I was running!
It was pretty awful for the first half an hour as the route is mostly on an incline and the XL I was wearing felt really heavy (4KG plus an extra 1.5KG in water weight) but I started to feel much better as I got into it. I stuck to 6 minutes run and 3 minutes walk for nearly all of the run (only negative walking on parts of the hills when the wind was at its blowiest) but the last 3 miles or so was very tiring and I was shattered when I got home. I was pleased to see I had finally managed to average 5mph for the 22 miles (which I've been trying to do on the long run/walks for weeks) but after having a bath I was surprised to still be aching all over and I ached for the rest of the day and night. I normally get over aches and pains fairly quickly!
Sunday I woke up to find out the weather was windier than the day before and I was due to run part of the Coast to Coast route from Washington to Consett and back. The route runs from East to West, and again, it was a Western wind which promised 30-40mph with gusts of 50mph. I'll be honest, I was really tired before I'd even left the house but I have been trying to get to 6 hours on the second day of my back to back runs so I couldn't wimp out (more's the pity!).
When I got to Washington I was instantly greeted by a gust of wind in my face and I started up the Garmin and just got on with it. I had to stop twice in the first couple of miles to sort my feet out. I'd worn new trainers the day before which were great and caused no problems but now I was wearing new trail trainers which weren't so comfy. I had twisted my foot whilst turning quickly on Wednesday but had only noticed discomfort on Friday. The run on Saturday had been fine so I'd thought no more about it, but already, two miles in and my foot felt really swollen. I put the last plaster I had on the affected area and hoped for the best.
The road just went slowly up and up and up. There were lots of people out running and I managed to stick to the 6:3 run/walk ratio which shocked me considering how achy and tired I was, how windy it was, and the long incline. I wore a buff and found that running in the wind while wearing one really helps my breathing. I'd tried it out the day before and decided it was a good thing to use in this sort of weather and saves me turning my head away from the direction of the wind to try and breathe.
I'd been running for about 6 miles and every time I saw that the road was no longer visible ahead I kept presuming that meant there was a downhill coming... no, you got to the top and saw another incline ahead. Two young girls were running together as part of a running group and I asked them does the road get flat. They didn't know. Their coach was up ahead so I asked him. When I said I was running to Consett he did that 'sucking air through his teeth' thing and said it wouldn't level out until I got to Stanley (another 3 miles). I was gutted.
It was a really open route so when the inclines flattened out the wind just billowed. I had taken some vegan sausage rolls to try and they were gorgeous. I was using them as 'treats' to reward myself for not turning back before I got to 3 hours. At 3 hours I took a longer walk break and ate the last two small chunks and thought they would have gone down great with a cup of coffee! I took a sip of water instead, seeing as there wasn't a coffee in sight. I was looking forward to all of the downhills with the wind on my back but to be honest, I think I'd pushed so hard in the beginning and the day before that, here I was, in said perfect position of dowhill running with the wind blowing me home and I didn't have the energy to capitalise on it.
So, I just jogged bits and walked bits and there was no strategy to what I was doing. My feet were killing me because the route turned out to be nearly all tarmac and I was in trail shoes, my foot felt swollen, I needed another plaster for my heel and didn't have one and I just couldn't help but feel that I was doing this to myself and it wasn't even a bloody race. It only hurts this much in a race!!
When I got back to the car after the longest last 5 miles of my life I found I was at 27.41 miles. I thought that if I just ran down the street and back I could end the day on 28 miles and 50 miles for the weekend but as soon as that thought entered my head another thought swiftly replaced it saying 'Fuck that'.
I was aching like mad for the whole night and have been a bit achy today too but today I'm pleased with how I did. A few weeks ago I'd have turned around much earlier than 3 hours and done much less mileage. Hopefully that means I'm getting a bit stronger, or a bit more determined maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment