JogBlog running blog

Due to my hangover testifying that red wine, white wine and champagne aren’t a good mix, I wake up and think I’ll go out for my eight miles tomorrow instead of today and then I remember the text last night from Tracey which said did I want to go for a free drink tomorrow in Ilford and then into town for another free drink at a casino and instead of replying no I have to stay in and drink water and get up and run eight miles and anyway I have no desire to go to Ilford due to me spending the first 19 years of my life there and it being full of Essex people and I don’t want to go gambling, the lure of the words “free” and “drink” compel me to text back and say yeah, sounds good, email me details.

And I look out of the window and it is a nice bright sunny day and I think I bet it’s nice over the marshes but it’s still not motivating me very much but I get changed into my running kit and go outside and do my usual sit on the wall thing and wait for a satellite which takes longer now due to me being addicted to the Nokia Sports Tracker website so now I have to take my N95 out with me which takes ages and ages to pick up a signal but it does eventually and I shove it in my pocket where I promise myself it will stay for the duration of the eight miles and not get taken out of my pocket for any photo based emergencies.

It’s busy over the marshes and I think don’t these people know the marshes are for my sole use only? well, me and the Kingsway International Christian Centre who I am reliably informed is the biggest church in London, if not the UK, anyway. At least until 9 January when they take down their big metal triangle and remove it from the marshes and the marshes can get on with its important task of being a nature reserve.

Amongst the people is a couple running and the bloke’s wearing a rucksack and the girl isn’t and I wonder if he’s carrying all her stuff and I decide he probably is and I wonder if she had to ask him or if he just offered and I decide he looks gentlemanly and probably didn’t have to be asked and just offered and then they get to the cattle grid and he runs over it while she stops and tentatively walks across it and then I get to the cattle grid and stop and tentatively walk across it and then they’re up to the ice rink and I think please don’t be going into Hackney Marshes as I don’t want to follow you for the next six miles and they turn off and I think hooray and then I think oh actually, as I’m just about to go into Hackney Marshes, the entire population can escort me if it wants to, as long as it buggers off once we get back to Walthamstow and there’s quite a few people over Hackney Marshes too and I think the nice weather must have brought people out and then I see a man in a Rasta hat down by the river and I wonder if he’s rolling a spliff and then I think that is a huge generalisation but I decide he probably is rolling a spliff anyway and wonder if he’ll give me a puff but then I remember that I don’t smoke and never liked dope anyway and then I see some more exercise related things that I never noticed before and there’s an arm stretch but it’s so high up and the only person I know tall enough to reach it is Bear and I think he probably doesn’t frequent Hackney Marshes that often and in fact has probably never even been to Hackney Marshes and even if he had, I’m even more sure that Hackney Council probably didn’t build an arm stretch just for him.

I’m back in Walthamstow and running up to where I think the cows live now and I look at my Garmin and I think I’m on track for my fastest 10k ever and I get to where the cows should be but they’re not there and I must have got it wrong where I thought they were in relation to where I saw them as I thought today’s route would take me nearer them and I’m wondering where they are and I think they must be the other side of the railway bridge but you can’t really get through there to anywhere and I look at my Garmin and wonder what is more important, a 10k PB or cows? and so I go through the bridge to look for the cows but it’s all muddy and I have to stop and I can’t get through there to anywhere so I turn around and go to go back through the underpass and a runner comes along and I stop to let him go first but he stops and turns back and I wonder if he’s taking the not dedicated to the public sign seriously and I go through the underpass and I remember the steep bit and I think if I walk up the steep bit I’m not going to get my fastest ever 10k time so I run up it and I look at my Garmin and it seems to be broken as the time seems to be ticking away but the mileage seems to have stopped but eventually it does get to 10k in 1:08 which, along with the 10k in which the football incident occurred, is my fastest ever, hurrah.

Then I’m on the most boring stretch of road in the world ever that leads out of the marshes and I’m thinking about the casino and I’m wondering if it’s smart dress only and am I going to have to wear a dress and heels as I’m not a girly girl and I only wear jeans and Converse and I have a hangover and hangover and heels do not mix, they mix even less well than eight miles and hangovers and I look at my Garmin and it’s on seven miles exactly and I get to the park and it’s on 7.3 miles and I’m thinking one lap of the park is point 4 miles I think and can I wimp out after 7.7 miles as I am extremely knackered and I think no, no wimping out, so I go round the park and then it gets to 7.5 miles and I think point 5 to go, that’s ok, then I realise that point 5 is half a mile and half a mile sounds far and I think I. Can. Not. Run. For. A. Nother. Half. A. Mile. And there’s a man throwing a stick for a dog and he smiles and says morning and I attempt to smile back but not sure if I managed it and I still haven’t done 8 miles and I think I can’t go round the park again as the man will say hello again and I’ll have to attempt to smile again and it was hard enough the first time and I leave the park as I have to investigate the bus stop anyway to see what times the buses are that will take me to my Essex homeland and so I do some bus stop investigating and it says it takes 43 minutes and I think can I sit on a bus for 43 minutes? Eek.

Stats:
Distance: 8.04 miles
Time: 1:25:40
Pace: 10:38
Calories: 756
Photo based emergencies: 0
Music:
No Doubt
The Polyphonic Spree
Faith No More
The Cure
Idle Vice Pirate
The Secret Machines
Ash
Tricky
The Crescent

My schedule has me down for 6 miles before Friday, as last week started on Friday and I was under instructions not to take any photos and I promise myself that I won’t take any photos but I have to take the N95 because I found out from Warriorwoman that there’s a new version of the Sports Tracks software and a rather nifty website to upload all your stats to, so what’s a geek girl to do, but to run off and get the software and test out the new website.  Cool.

I get outside the house and there’s a dead rat and I instinctively go to get my camera out of my pocket but remember the no photo rule and think no one’s going to want to see a photo of a dead rat anyway and I go and sit on the wall while my Garmin and my N95 pick up a satellite.  Last time I took my N95 out for its GPS purposes instead of its photo emergency purpose or phone for help in an emergency purpose, it didn’t seem to keep a signal in my pocket but this time I just think fuck it, I’m not holding it, it can go in my pocket and I’ll see if it can keep up, I have the Garmin for back up anyway.

I get to my favourite bridge and I think I’m going to turn left and see if the cows have been moved down there because I’ve never been down there but it only brings me back to the first bridge and so I turn back round and head off towards the new strange building and on the other side of the marshes I SEE THE COWS.  Yah.  But they’re on the other side and too far away for me to take a picture but obviously I am still adhering to the no photo rule and I wonder if the no photo rule applies to cows and I decide it probably does and even maybe especially does and I think bollocks, I won’t be coming back that way either but never mind and I get further along and there’s a sign that tells me what the new building is.   And this is definitely a photo emergency so I take a picture.

It’s definitely not a roast potato factory.  It’s a Christian centre which is obviously what we need built in the middle of a fucking nature reserve.  But it’s going after 9 January 2008, hurrah.  And I don’t need a roast potato factory anyway as I took the plunge and made roast potatoes on Christmas Day for the first time ever and very nice they were too.  I am a potato goddess.

I drag myself round Hackney Marshes and I see the cutest puppy in the world ever, made even more cute by the fact he’s wearing a bandana round his neck and it reminds me of my old cat Stupid who had a bandana round her neck and looked very cute too and I wonder how accommodating my current cat would be if I tried to put a bandana round her neck and I decide she would probably try to kill me.

I eventually get home after the slowest 10k in the world ever and the N95 has managed to keep its signal even from my pocket and I upload the stats to the website which I’m not going to link to here as people can zoom right in but here’s a screenshot.

And it even grasses you up for taking pictures by putting a little camera icon on the map where you took a picture.  Cool.

Stats (from the Garmin):
Distance: 6.67 miles
Time: 1:17:28
Pace: 11:37
Calories: 627
Cows: 6
Christian centres: 1
Puppies with bandanas: 1
Music:
Ween
Manic Street Preachers
Devo
The Gossip
The Young Knives
The Specials
Madness
Baby Teeth
The Polyphonic Spree
Faith No More
Transvision  Vamp
Kasabian
B52s
Baby Bird
Terrorvision
Cardiacs
Cribs
Citizen Fish

As I have a cast iron guarantee that murderers stay in on Christmas Day, and because I am spending Christmas Day on my own this year which means I won’t be drunk by lunchtime, and because I need to fit in two runs before Friday, I load up my iPod and brace myself for 9 miles in the gloomy, cold, wet and windy weather. Blimey, anyone would think it was Winter or something.

The cows have still gone but now there is a cattle grid and a proper cattle grid this time, not just a sheet of metal and I think what’s the point of that, the cows have gone now.

And I think how the fuck am I supposed to get over that? The holes are huge and they’re all wet and I can’t go around it as it seems to be gated off but I manage to get over it without falling over, unlike on my birthday when I apparently informed everyone I was going to run home, got about ten feet and then fell over, whereupon I was promptly poured into a cab.

And then I’m thinking I should make something for my dinner but I don’t know what to have as I haven’t been to the shops and I think maybe I should have thought of this before Christmas Day and I think I could go to the shops and get some potatoes and make roast potatoes, seeing as I’ve been kicking up a fuss about office parties offering veggies risotto instead of roast potatoes but I don’t know how to make roast potatoes but I don’t suppose it can be that difficult and the big building’s still there in the marshes and I can hear noises coming from inside it and I think maybe it’s a roast potato factory and they’ll give me some roast potatoes but then dozens of very smartly dressed people come into the marshes and head towards the building and I think oh, it must be some religious thing and not a roast potato thing. Damn.

And I get around Hackney Marshes without getting murdered so the cast iron guarantee about murderers must be true and I’m back at Walthamstow marshes and there may not be cows anymore but the horses are still there

and I decide to continue up past the river and I see some ducks. Or Canadian geese. Or some sort of bird anyway, but not the huge mechanical ones that were in my dream last night crashing everywhere.

And then I’m back on the street and suddenly the road turns into a lake and I wonder how deep it is so I put my foot in it and fuck, it’s deep so I side step onto the railings and make it past the road-lake and then after 9 miles, I’m home, soaked.

Today’s route

Stats:
Distance: 9.3 miles
Time: 1:51:08
Pace: 11:57
Calories: 875
Cows: 0
Roast potatoes: 0
Religious people: lots
Road-lakes: 1
Music:
Hole
Crazy Frog
Peeping Tom
Maximo Park
My Bloody Valentine
Devo
Baby Teeth
Mr & Mrs Smith
Andre 3000
Elastica
Subhumans
The Polyphonic Spree
The Specials
Madness
Mark Ronson
The Gossip
The Young Knives
The Damned
Catatonia
The B52s
Manic Street Preachers
Faith No More

Oh yes, I am hardcore.  Two running commutes in a week and today’s one makes me especially hardcore as I did it with a hangover after spending the evening drinking white wine, red wine, lager, cherry beer and some strange green drink that the restaurant gave us.  But because tomorrow is my birthday, fitting in a run and writing this blog before showering/washing hair/drying hair/putting on make up/straightening hair and getting out by lunchtime for my birthday pizza, only left me with four options:

1) Do it Friday.
2) Get up super-early.
3) Do it on Sunday.
4) Don’t do it.

2) is possible but still the timing might be a bit tight.  3) is probably the most unlikely thing in the world, due to having had been out drinking all day on Saturday.  4)  isn’t the actions of a finely tuned athlete such as myself.  So 1) it was to be.

And earlier in the week I had been wondering how I was going to manage three runs in a week as I have trouble getting out the door when I get home and stupid Niketown don’t answer their stupid phone so I couldn’t check if their running group was still going and then my saviour comes along in the form of the Runner’s World Running Club which is a group of runners of all abilities meeting up at Speaker’s Corner every Tuesday evening at 6:15-6:30pm to run around Hyde Park, so get yourselves down there, first run 8 January 2008.  And if that wasn’t perfect enough, there’s even a visit to the pub after.  So with that and a weekly running commute and my usual Saturday run, that’s my three runs a week sorted, hurrah.

Stats:
Distance: 6.3 miles
Time: 1:19:02
Pace: 12:32
Hangovers: 1
Music:
Hole
Ween
Radiohead
Janis Joplin
Arctic Monkeys
The Pretenders
My Bloody Valentine
Hard-Fi
Rollins Band
The Cure

In an attempt to get three runs in this week I pack my running rucksack the night before in preparation for a running commute, not forgetting to pack the essentials of my personal alarm and don’t fuck with me look, due to part of my route taking me up what is locally not very reassuringly known as Murder Mile.

And while I’m at work the managing partner comes round with this  year’s Christmas gift which is a very nice box of handmade biscuits, shortbread fingers, cinnamon stars, Belgian chocolates and a bottle of wine which is a vast improvement on last year’s box of soft centres.

But by 4 o’clock I seem to have accidentally eaten the whole packet of shortbread fingers but I think oh well, I need fuel for running don’t I and it gets to 5 o’clock and my boss says I can go home and I go to get changed and he says haven’t I got a coat and I say I’m just going to get changed, I’m running home tonight and he says oh, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for a drink but obviously not and I think that’s weird, that’s twice in a week he’s asked me to go for a drink and he hasn’t asked me to go for a drink since last Christmas and I wonder if I can get out of it with the running commute excuse on Friday just in case he asks me again then and I think I’m going to look a right div changing into my running gear on Friday when everyone else is getting dressed up to go to the Christmas party which I’m not going to because a) I hate office parties; b) there is a very high risk I will get obscenely drunk and say something I shouldn’t; and c) my birthday is the next day and I don’t want to be hungover.

So I begin my running commute and a mile up the road I’m in Angel and I’m at the lights waiting for the cyclists to stop going through the red lights and then I’m at some more lights waiting for the cars to stop going through the red lights and I think is it National Go Through The Red Lights Day or what? and I continue down Upper Street and there’s a lot of people and I think to myself I should be grateful of the safety in numbers thing while it lasts because once I get to Hackney I’ll be on the street by myself because people in Hackney are too scared to leave their houses and I’m thinking is this running commute in the dark really a good idea and I’m thinking if a friend said she was going to run through Hackney in the dark I’d say noooooooooooooo, that is the worst idea ever ever ever, don’t do it and so I think maybe I should get on the train at Hackney Downs and then I get to Hackney Downs station and I carry on and then I’m surrounded by housing estates which is a bit scary and then I get to Murder Mile and a police car speeds down the road, siren wailing, and then I’m over the roundabout and not too far from home but there’s fields on both sides and it’s a bit scary and then I go past B&Q which no one has petrol bombed yet but surely it’s only a matter of time due to them being incompetent fools and just as Somerfield appears on the horizon I stop to do my shoelace up for the third time and I wonder if I’ve deserved a bottle of wine and I decide I probably have so I get one and then I’m home and I’ve done a running commute without walking most of it for the first time ever.

Today’s route

Stats:
Distance: 6.36 miles
Time: 1:20:49
Pace: 12:42
Calories: 557
Packets of shortbread fingers: 1
Shoelaces coming undone: 3
Walking breaks: 0
Music:
Hole
Mark Ronson
The Cure
Idle Vice Pirate
Hard-Fi

I hear about Niketown’s running club which goes out on Mondays and Tuesdays at 6:30pm and I think that is exactly what I need, although Monday is sexist night as it’s for ladies only and the longest run is 4.5 miles, but on Tuesdays it’s for everyone and the longest run is 7.5 miles.  Don’t they think girls can run 7.5 miles?  Cheek.  But I try all day to ring them to see if they’re still doing it and I can’t get through, all I get is a recorded Yank telling me to press 1 if I want to know the store times.  Bollocks.  I don’t want a wasted journey going up to Oxford Street for no reason as I know I’ll never get out the door when I get home if there’s no running club and so I go straight home and try to leave the house without opening the post or checking Facebook or my email and I manage one of the three and I’ve received my race pack for the Serpentine New Year’s Day 10k and it says STRICTLY NO HEADPHONES and I think they must really mean it as not only have they written it in uppercase but it’s also in bold and underlined and they say if anyone is found to be wearing headphones they’ll have their race number taken away and disqualified and I think well, you’re welcome to take my race number as you’ve given me number sixty fucking nine which is SO NOT FUNNY.  And I’m looking at my race number and I think I can’t wear that, people will laugh at me and I turn it upside down but it still says 69 and I think well, it would do really wouldn’t it, and I think why can’t they just leave out number 69, like Americans leave out floor no. 13 and I don’t want to wear my race number and I think maybe I’ll go out on New Year’s Eve after all.

I eventually leave the house after checking Facebook but resisting the urge to check my email and head off on my five mile route and as usual there’s too much traffic and having to stop every two yards to cross the road is seriously pissing me off and then I’m wondering what the song is that’s just come on my iPod and I run out in front of a car and I think oops, maybe the race organisers have a point about the headphones and I say sorry to the woman who nearly ran me over and I carry on and I get to the corner of the High Street and I think to pass the time I’ll count how many kebab shops and takeaways there are between here and the station and then I go past the Vic pub and they’ve got a sign up saying they’ve got a roof terrace and I think since when? do they just mean you can sit on the roof? and I think I should investigate, maybe on Saturday and then I realise that I am so intrigued by the Vic’s roof terrace that I’ve forgotten to count the kebab shops and I was up to 13 and then I’m going down Lea Bridge Road and there’s a power cut on the side of the road I’m on and it’s not making me feel any safer and there’s a tower block which is completely unlit, except for three windows which have lights flickering in them and they must be sitting in candlelight and then I’m back on a bit which has lights and it’s not like the 70s anymore and then I go round the corner and a hoodie comes along and leans over and says something to me but I can’t hear what he says and I think well, there’s a plus point for my iPod but then I think I probably wouldn’t have been able to understand him anyway, even if I didn’t have my music on and then I’m nearly home and I think I need to change my route and find a quieter one as an hour to do 5 miles is really shit.

Stats:
Distance: 5.10 miles
Time: 1:00:13
Pace: 11:48
Dodgy race numbers: 1
Cars nearly running me over: 1
Power cuts: 1
Unintelligible hoodies: 1
Music:
Baby Teeth
Devo
Elysian Fields
Edie Sedgwick
Editors
The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster
Eminem
The Electric Soft Parade

As is becoming a bit of a Friday habit, I stay up late drinking wine and get the munchies but I have it on good authority that the most important elements of a modern scientific training regime are: (1) quality rest periods; (2) balanced nutrition; and (3) effective hydration. AKA lie-ins, chips and beer.  Or in my case lie-ins, cheese toasties and wine.

So I get up late and email Bear and say I stayed up late drinking wine, do I have to go out for 7 miles this morning? and he emails me back and says no, you have to do 8 miles, I checked your schedule.  Bollocks.

I eventually leave the house around lunchtime and I go past a house that’s for sale which has the advantage of being on the edge of the marshes but also has the disadvantage of being about 5 seconds walk from Ex Boyfriend’s house and I wonder if I bought that house how accommodating would he be if I went round to borrow a cup of sugar and I decide probably not very so I decide not to buy that house and as I get to the bridge where Ben came off his bike and broke his jaw there’s a man running really slowly and I follow him through the bridge and I’ve nearly caught him up and he’s obviously more of a finely tuned athlete than I am as he runs up the bridge at the marina whereas I do my usual stop and walk up it thing and I’m thinking please don’t go the same way as me as I’m going to have to overtake you, even I don’t run that slowly and if I overtake you, I’m going to feel bad and he does turn the way I’m going but he sticks to the path and I go alongside the river and I overtake him and then I get to my favourite bridge and Slow Bloke doesn’t go over the bridge but carries on and I get over the bridge and I think hang on a minute, weren’t the cows here last week? but the cows aren’t here now and I think maybe they’ve gone back to where they used to live and I wonder if the cows got confused with all this moving about or maybe they just got pissed off and I got to where the cows used to live but THE COWS AREN’T THERE.  Fuck.  Where have the cows gone?

And in place of the cows is this building thing.

And I think that’s no good, cows are better than buildings and what the fuck is it anyway?  And I get across the road and there’s a group of cyclists stopped off at the pub and I think I quite fancy a drink but I have no money on me and I wonder if they’d swap a pint for a photo of a cow and I think probably not so I continue on my way.

I get through Hackney Marshes without getting murdered and as I go through the bridge at Lea Bridge Road, Slow Bloke comes through and he says morning and I say hello back and then I wonder which route he took and then I think oh my god, if he came the direct way here from where I left him, that is seriously slow and I think no, he must have gone a different way and then I think why did he say morning when it’s about 1:30pm? and then I’m back at the stables and I’ve gone 6 miles and I need to do another two and I’m only a mile from home and I don’t know which way to go to make up the miles and I think shit, I should have thought of this before I left the house and I continue through the marshes and go through the bridge and there’s this sign

and I don’t know what it means.  Who’s not dedicated to the public and why not? And I leave the marshes the way I came in and then I’m at the park and I have about a mile to do so I go into the park and there’s people playing football which doesn’t help much with my football phobia and I do a lap of the park and then go round the edge of the sports field and back onto the street and then I’m home and I’ve done my longest outside run ever ever ever.

Today’s route

Stats:
Distance: 8.29 miles
Time: 1:33:59
Pace: 11:20
Calories: 720
Cows: 0
Slow Blokes: 1
Dedication to the public: 0
Music:
Polyphonic Spree
Rollins Band
Faith No More
The Cure
Stereo Total
Mark Ronson
Cardiacs
Chumbawamba
The Cooper Temple Clause
The Damned
Hole
The Horrors
Junior Senior
Sex Pistols
Ween
White Stripes

Running in the evening never seems like a good idea when I get in from work and the reality’s not usually much cop either but I get changed before I change my mind and make vegetarian beef style teriyaki instead and stay in and make some more rings like these

and I get outside and FUCK IT’S COLD and I go back indoors and put my gloves on and I think to myself I need some new running kit, I haven’t got enough winter stuff and I set off on my five mile route and it’s not as easy as I found it last week and it’s cold and it’s windy and there’s loads of people and cars in my way and my iPod’s not throwing up great tunes  and I think I’m going to cut my run short and just do three miles and then I think no I can’t do that as no exercise = no low fat brownies as in this month’s Runner’s World magazine which I made yesterday and which are very nice indeed and apparently an ideal post-run snack after training on dark Winter evenings although I decided they were the ideal pre-run fuel too as a finely tuned athlete can’t live on spinach soup alone and I keep going and I think I promised myself I was going for a run on Wednesday evening too although if I go out tomorrow night I don’t think that’s going to happen and I think am I ever going to manage three runs in a week? and I decide I probably won’t and I eventually do 5 miles and I’ve done under 11 minute miles for the first time in about five months, hurrah.

Stats:
Distance: 5.06 miles
Time: 55:35
Pace: 10:59
Calories: 458
Low fat brownies: 1 (so far today)
Music:
Rollins Band
B52s
Soft Cell
Temple Cooper Clause
Faith No More
Polyphonic Spree

After sleeping the best sleep I’ve had for months, I get up and wonder if a bottle and a half of wine was the best pre-run fuel I could have chosen but I feel remarkably ok and I’m looking forward to going out for 7 miles as per my schedule although it’s getting late and I’m not very good at running later in the day and it’s pissing down but I remind myself that I like running in the rain and my iPod eventually updates and it’s chosen some great tunes for me and I go outside and wait for my Garmin to get a signal and it’s taking ages and ages and ages and I go and stand on the other side of the road and it’s still taking ages and ages and ages and I’m getting soaked and freezing and after about ten minutes I think fuck it, I’m going home, I can’t run without my Garmin, and I cross the road to go home and it springs into action and I think oh I’ve got no excuse now but there’s a bunch of hoodies under the bridge and I wonder if they’re just sheltering from the rain or waiting for someone to murder but as I was waiting for my Garmin to get a signal a couple of people had come through the bridge without getting murdered so I decide to be brave and run under the bridge and through the hoodies and they let me go through without murdering me which is handy as getting murdered would fuck up my training a bit.

I get to the marshes and to the marina and I remember I need to check up on the cows as I haven’t seen them from the train this week and I hope they’re not gone because they’re usually there until January and I get over my favourite bridge and HOORAY the cows are there, they’ve just been moved and that’s why I couldn’t see them from the train and I wonder why they’ve been moved and they’re not fenced in in their new location and there’s a man in with them

and I wonder if cows are friendly because my knowledge of cows is very limited what with me being a townie and that but I don’t think they’re as friendly as horses and they might not appreciate me going and stroking them and I stand there and decide whether to go over to the cows but I decide to be chicken and carry on running down to where the cows used to live and just past there they’re building something

and I think what the fuck are they building on my marshes? and there’s a van with Arena Structures on it and I think an arena? maybe some bands will play here, that’ll be cool, maybe Bobby or Cardiacs will play and just a mile away from my house too, yay.

And I get past the ice rink and to the pub by the river and Bear had emailed me and  requested some chips from the pub but the pub is shut so I text him to tell him he can’t have any chips and a three legged dog comes past and I go over the bridge and it’s still raining and there’s loads of puddles on the path and I decide not to run by the river in case I fall in as the path is narrow so I take a detour and then I haven’t a clue where I am but I follow the path round and I eventually find myself back on familiar territory and a runner comes past and obviously as only finely tuned athletes run when it’s pissing down, he recognises me as a fellow finely tuned athlete and gives me a wave and after four miles I get some feeling back in my hands which have just about warmed up and I think next time I’ll take my gloves and then another runner also recognises me as a fellow finely tuned athlete and smiles at me and I think other runners are friendlier when it’s raining, and then I’m under the bridge and out of Hackney Marshes and I run up the steep bit for the first time ever and pass the stables and over the footbridge and then I’m back out on the road and when I get through the bread factories I’ve done 10k and I need to do another mile and I go up to the sports field but there’s about a million people in there playing football so I go round the edge and into the park and half a lap of the park later I’ve done 7 miles and am back to where I was in my schedule before I got injured, hurrah.

Today’s route

Stats
Distance: 7.05 miles
Time: 1:18:27
Pace: 11.07
Calories: 637
Weather: pissing down
Cows moved: 6
Building works over marshes: 1
Three legged dogs: 1
Runners being friendly: 2
Music
Faith No More
The Cure
Belle and Sebastian
Devo
Polyphonic Spree
Jamiroquai
Rollins Band
Rolling Stones
Stereo Total
Hole
Marc Almond
Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster
Daisy Chainsaw
Ween

After a fun Friday, a hungover Saturday and a profitable Sunday, I remember half-marathons still don’t run themselves and so I decide that tonight I’m going to go out for five miles and I put it on Facebook and I lied last time on Facebook and I don’t know how many times you’re allowed to lie on Facebook before you get struck by lightning or something so I decide not to take the risk that it’s only once and I spend all day trying to stay awake and I decide I probably need more to eat than fruit and soup and so I go to Sainsburys at lunchtime and buy a malt loaf, promising myself that I will resist eating the whole thing in one go and I cut some off at about 4 o’clock and oh my god, it’s gooeyness is so so nice and I put the rest in my bag and wonder if I can resist troughing the rest of it after my dinner tonight and I can’t wait to get home because my boss is being annoying and on my way home I start to think of excuses why I can’t go for a run but I can’t think of any, it’s not even cold and actually the malt loaf did its job and I feel quite energetic and I get home and feed the cat and get changed and head off for my four mile route that I’m going to have to add a mile on to somewhere and I get to the tube station and I’ve gone 2.5 miles and I think bollocks, I thought it was 3 miles to here, I need another 2.5 miles and so I continue down to Bakers Arms and I’ve still got another 2 miles to do and I’m not 2 miles from home and I get to Somerfield and think oh I should have brought some money out with me, I could do with a glass of wine and then I think no, I will have a drink tomorrow with Joggerblogger who is in Ye Olde London Town tomorrow and has requested the pleasure of my company and I keep going dangerously near my house but I’m determined not to go in until I’ve done 5 miles and I keep going and keep going and eventually my Garmin ticks over to 5 miles, hurrah.

Today’s route

Stats
Distance: 5.01 miles
Time: 55:53
Pace: 11:09
Calories: 437
Malt loaves: 1
Joggerbloggers in London: 1
Music
The Cure
Siouxsie & The Banshees
Faith No More
Simian
Calvin Harris
The Damned
Devo
Elastica
Hot Chip
Manic Street Preachers
Mark Ronson
Scissor Sisters
Stereo Total