On the treadmill at lunchtime today, I noticed a distinct improvement in my running. I’ve not been for a run since Friday last week, what with one thing and another, today I punched in 5km and off I went. My only issue was I didn’t puff on my ventolin early enough, so it took a while for my breathing to settle down.
Basing my speed at 9.7 (whatever the umpityump that means), I slowed to 6.3 for 200m to get my breath back after 2km, then for most of the rest of the distance I alternated between 9.7 and 11.3 (they’re pre-set speeds, I think at KM/H, but not sure). I had to walk it out at 6.3 again for another 200m about 4km for a wipe off as I was sweating so much I couldn’t see what I was doing. Most attractive. But go me.
I’ve got an 8km run on Sunday, the Mother’s Day Classic. Last year, Hubs and I were first pram home in the 5km race at Tocumwal. We won an African Violet that I promptly killed with TLC. I did a 5km race I nearly got all the way round without walking earlier this year, I’m hoping to run the majority of it on Sunday, but I’m realistic. There will be hundreds of people, and we’re puffing our way around the Tan, and up Anderson Street. Why on earth we have to run up it? It’s a long, slow hill and it looks like we’ve got to do it twice! Dagnammit.
At least it’s not going to be raining, the last time I tried to run with K in the city, the rain was blowing sideways. We ended up sitting in a five star hotel, in our lycra, with bed head, mascara under our eyes having a coffee instead. Not the work out we’d planned, but lovely nonetheless!
Whatever you get up to this weekend, remember that for some people Mother’s Day is hard, hard work – for a variety of reasons. So be gentle.