As I’m sure they say in downtown Tallinn, that was baltic! True hat and gloves weather.
The temperature on the BBC Weather app stated -2°C, and although my Garmin app said it was a positively balmy 1°C it was pretty safe to say it was pretty chilly.
In fact, I’m sure I spotted through the fog in the distance a Brass Monkey and some of his mates huddled together looking pretty sorry for themselves whilst doing a quick stock check of their nether regions. It was that sort of day.
I usually like to do my Sunday runs in the morning. There’s something peaceful and tranquil about that but because everywhere was shrouded in white when I woke I decided to leave it until the optimum time according the weather, and that time was after lunch.
So, after a quick walk over to the shop to just to check conditions underfoot and interestingly passing two large frozen puddles, I got changed ready to go. Hat on, gloves on, t-shirt tucked inside my boxers to eliminate any possibility of the piercing, icy air creeping in (although everything that could retreat already had!), jacket on ….. in fact, apart from my eyes, nose and gob there was no skin showing.
I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to go out. Not that I was worried about it or anything like that – as per normal – but just because it was so bloody cold!
I try not to leave it any longer than three days between runs. My last run was on Thursday and with parkrun being cancelled yesterday because of the wintery conditions today was therefore day three – so I simply had to do it.
Pre-run I’d decided just to do three miles (ok, 3.1 – no point stopping short of 5k). I felt that was quite enough in the conditions – did I mention there was a slight chill in the air? – but also because I wanted to follow the same plan as I did before the Great South Run and that was increase my Sunday run by a mile week on week, so starting with three today would mean I’d reach ten by the first week in January and the start of the 17-week marathon training programme, by which time I’ll evaluate my progress and decide upon a definitive schedule.
Anyway, how did the run go? Timewise it wasn’t my quickest but was faster than I’d done on Thursday, so I suppose that’s something and it still fell comfortably within my target pace at present.
Looking at my splits, I set off like a hare with a rocket up his arse but I paid for this by the fourth kilometre so, disappointingly, took a few walking breaks much to my annoyance but, suitably refreshed, I increased my speed significantly in the final km.
Sometimes there’s no point being a martyr and punishing yourself, I was pleased that I didn’t beat myself up over it and it’s not as if those breaks were for any significant period of time, 30 seconds at most.
I ended the run soaking wet from the waist down. Not because it was raining or because I had a toilet malfunction(!), but because I misjudged the depth of a puddle!
I thought I could nimbly skip through it ballerina-like but, in true Vicar of Dibley fashion, I rather ungracefully plonked myself slap bang in the middle of it. Water and mud everywhere and a squelch, squelch, squelch soundtrack accompanying me to the finish.