Monday, 3 January 2011

10.5, or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Realised I Fucking Rule

So, yesterday I ran 10.5 miles. I set out to do a minimum of 10, and while out, I mapped what I thought was 10.5 in my head, ran it, came home, mapped it and hey presto, I had it exactly right.

I used a couple of great mantras, had some quality choons on the iPod, and got on with it. Mantra of choice was my wife's wonderful "I remember when this used to be a hill", which is surprisingly effective when I want to reduce a steep slope to nothingness in my head.

The shoes I'm wearing, UK Gear PT1000, are working out great. They're supposed to be able to handle up to 1000 miles of running, which is about 600 more than any other shoe on the market; if they can do even half that extra, I'll be over the moon.

It wasn't quick - but I averaged 10-minute miles or just under. It wasn't pretty - according to one person I saw that I knew, I turned purple. But that's the furthest I've run since the Vegas half marathon on my wedding day in 2007, and I am feeling pretty damn proud of myself. Back on track for London, April 17th.

Bring it on!

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