Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Racking Up The Miles
by Russell Turner - 15:18 on 09 February 2025
Week 5 of marathon training concluded with 12 miles which left me wondering how I’d managed to complete 26.2 in the past. My only comfort is that the long run is supposed to be slow, although presumably not as tortoise-like as this one was. I’d contemplated a flat canal run in Inverness; instead, to increase the effort, I included a couple of modest hills, closer to home, so I’ll blame them.
Looking back, the last time I ran more than 10 miles was the Oxford HM, almost four months ago; the last time before that was three months earlier at the RTTS, much of which was walked, so I do have a slight excuse for lack of long distance fitness.
That should be remedied over the coming weeks with long runs of 14, 16 and 18 miles: distances I never reached before last year’s virtual London because training targeted the Landmarks HM. This year will be different, with more long runs peaking at 20 miles, so if I can’t beat 2023’s 5:09 virtual time I’ll be rather miffed.
Week 6, the long-awaited step back week (with a long run of only 60mins) began today with what should have been 30mins easy. However, I made the mistake of joining in a friend’s run on Culachy Hill, adding mud, puddles and elevation to a mix already made tougher by freezing mist. I finished after 40mins but can’t complain too much because Matchgirl was out for 15 hilly miles in preparation for her women-only ultra in April. What a trouper.
In response to the lack of cats in the blog, here’s Pandora enjoying the brand new bed that Matchgirl bought her a few weeks ago. She ignored it when it first arrived, then sniffed suspiciously for a few days more before trying it out and deciding that she rather liked its soft, clean plushness.
Ever the attentive cat slave, last weekend, Matchgirl plumped up the cushions for her tabby mistress, who responded by sleeping outside the bed because it had been moved a couple of inches. She deigned to climb back in when it was returned to its proper place. Cats don’t do gratitude.
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