The only thing harder than running, is not running. With less than two weeks to go before my first 26.2 miler in preparation for the Marathon des Sables 2018, my biggest challenge now is not how many miles I can squeeze in before the starting pistol fires, but whether I can resist the urge to lace up my shoes and go for a run. As this week’s schedule shows (pictured), my mileage is dropping off in preparation for the big day.
It’s weird: when I started this daft project last July, my number one concern was whether I’d be able to find the strength, stamina and time to put in the training required to run 150 miles across the Sahara Desert without injuring myself or my wife and kids forgetting who I am; right now it’s whether I can properly recover from the past few months’ training to ensure I start the marathon on 17 April as daisy-fresh as possible.
It’s more of a challenge than you’d think. Running used to be a a hassle. Now I crave it. As a type one diabetic it helps me manage my blood sugar levels; it releases stress; it also allows me to beat rush hour. On Friday, I was up in London – Hackney, to be precise; a half hour’s walk from Arsenal tube – for work. The sun was shining, so I ran the eight or so miles back to Victoria Train Station.
It was a beautiful run, taking in Tower Bridge, London Bridge, South Bank and Westminster. But it was twice the distance I should have been doing that day, according to the schedule. So this weekend I did the unthinkable: I didn’t run. At. All. It felt wrong. But it had it’s compensations. I had two full days with the kids, which was great. Sprog the Younger (pictured) was certainly chuffed with the fish & chips I treated them to on Saturday.
Still, I cant wait for tonight’s 40 minutes.