This evening's run was wonderful, but also worrying - wonderfully worrying, perhaps - or worryingly wonderful? Whatever. Where was I?I set off, with the intention of doing 18 km, and ended up doing just under 20 km, deliberately extending the run so I could go further than the 18 km envisaged. I hate restrictions, barriers, definite aims/goals, control (also self-control, but not rectal control). If the intention is 18 km, then I'll do 17 or 19, but not 18.
I try to vary my runs (not diarrhoea, silly reader) as much as possible, but find, that I am slowly having to start repeating at least parts of some. There just aren't enough trails and roads to satisfy my needs. I'll have to have a word with the planning department - the Ministry of Running Trails.
As I am wont to do, I headed off down to the Rhein, through the heart of the military area, where shooting practice was taking place - I wasn't in my disgustingly erotic shorts, so was in no danger of being used as RPG practice. Clarissa and Victor (camel spider and vulture, respectively) were at my heel and overhead (respectively) - the rest of the flange and ponce (respectively) were out boozing. I headed up towards Domat/Ems, running behind the solar panels which line the Autobahn for several kilometres, past the small town, across the bridge of the dam on the Rhein, and then hit the headwind as I returned to Chur on the other side of said river.
It was a good run, thus far, and I felt happy, and did not feel any strain after yesterday's 12-km jaunt. My hayfever is a trifle annoying, at the moment, and I sprayed my thinly-membraned nasal orifices with my hated cortisone spray before I left home (bit like American Express, I guess - never leave home without it). Anyway, shortly after entering the forest between the dam and the village of Felsberg, I felt the need to blow my nose, but had fortgotten to load myself up with tissues. Consequently, it was the nasal ejaculation method into the bushes. I hate doing this, but it was necessary. Regrettably, a gust of wind hit me as I did this, and a blast of the stuff arced back and went over my running vest. Bloody hell (and I say that deliberately) - it was pure blood. It's not the first time I have lost blood because of the spray, but it's the first time I had to run home with blood all over my white vest!!!!! The movie Black Sheep has nothing on the way I looked. Of course, every man and his dog was out cycling this evening, and I did get some very strange looks.
Back in Chur, I had the choice of a short route home (as I had planned with GoogleEarth, and which would have been 18,2 km), or another route, which would give me a few more metres, but included a nasty hillock. Being the pillock I am, I chose the latter route, and dripped a trail of nasal plasma all the way to the top, but was happy I had done it.
It was a satisfying run, and, since Sunday, I have run 64 km, so feel pretty happy with myself - but not complacement by any means. I have a short 8-km run tomorrow, then I'll have a break on Friday, prior to my Grand Prix de Bern 16-km race in the nation's capital, Berne (with an "e" at the end, in English!!), on Saturday afternoon.
One thing I noticed today is, that I must try something other than diluted Gatorade as a drink en route. When I am not running, I have no trouble digesting it, but when I run, it makes me feel somewhat queasy at times. I need to find a substitute.
And, it's soon time for new Nike running shoes!!! Mine really are too small. The blisters on my toe ends have blisters, I think my toes are rotting off, and one of my toenails is dark blue and looks set to release itself from its digital captivity.
Just for the records, the results for today's run (not marathon-winning, but not bad for me, even if I say so yourself):
Distance: 19,78 km
Average pace: 5:05 (including vicious hillock, and a few others nasties)
Time: 1:40:31
I do wish, that every route I take, did not end with the inevitable uphill back home!!! It's not intense, but after 20 km, it's noticeable!!! And so to bed, to dream of camel spiders, sand and Patrick Bauer (we're entering nightmare territory, here).
1 comment:
Hi Craig, thanks for the comments. Yeah, sounds like you need to change your trainers. As a general rule I change them every 350 - 400 miles, r every 500-600kms. They lose their tread so easily and you'll notice it in your calfs. So be careful! Sounds like you're back in the swing of things though, you taek it easy now... we want you on the start line for 2009!
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