I'm a real advocate of training smart, and paying close attention to what my body is telling me. but sometimes I have a lapse, and do the exact opposite. Often this short period of reckless stupidity is in response to some guilt feeling brought upon by the fact that I've missed several training sessions, and this particular stretch of madness was just a case in point.
The background, was that due to one thing or another, my only running training during the last 3 weeks was a couple of sessions on the track. On top of that, I'd been shirking a bit on the bike training too. Basically, the problem is mental rather than physical, as my head has just not been in it. So at the end of last week, I decided it was time to put things straight (first mistake)
It started on Saturday afternoon when I put in a mammoth 60-miler on the turbo-trainer (anyone who thinks 60 mile on a turbo-trainer is not far needs to try it themselves).
Sunday morning, I decided to go out on the bike, and do an all-out 10-mile time-trial sandwiched between two steady 10 mile there & back rides. That left me pretty exhausted for the rest of the day.
Monday, I'd been invited on a club "social ride" with some of the cycling team. I should add at this point that although I ride for a team, I don't really know anyone else in it. But I turned out, and there was very little social about it, it seemed they were just testing me out to see if I could take the pace. or not! Well, I did manage to take the pace, but it was 40 miles at what could not be described as "leisurely" and following on from the weekends activities, it was a little bit on the frantic side.
Tuesday. I had to get out for a run, because I've been slacking so much, and added to which the Ingleborough fell race was looming at the weekend. I thought I'd do a hilly 10 miler that I'd not done for some years. Still feeling it in the legs from the previous nights cycling I set off at a steady trot. After 3 miles I was ready to quit, and the worst was yet to come, my lousy memory had forgotten that the 10-miler was actually a 12.5-miler. And as if the unintended distance was not enough to contend with, the lack of running meant my calves were as tight as drums. That night I was in so much pain with a nerve which I could feel all the way from my lower-back down my left leg and into my foot, that I hardly slept.
Wednesday, apart from some muscle aches, the pain had mostly gone away, but (sigh) I had tentatively pencilled in a cyclo-cross race at Elland. I tried to get out of it by asking Matthew which he'd prefer to do, the aforementioned cyclo-cross race, or a circuit race (no adults) at Wombwell, which would give me just the excuse I needed for a well-needed rest. Guess which he chose? yes - you guessed it - it was off to the cyclo-cross. OK, I could have just watched him I suppose, but (a) it helps to motivate him if I set an example, and (b) if I turn up to watch, I always wish I had a punt myself. If you are unfamiliar with cyclo-cross, it's 45 minutes of lung-busting torture. The only thing running-wise l can compare it to, is a hard cross country run in heavy conditions. Anyway I performed reasonably well considering, and got stronger as the race went on.
Thursday (here we are) today I can hardly walk! I think it's the run from Tuesday rather than the cycling, but the way it's looking I can't see me running round the track at the club tonight, and unless things improve greatly, then Ingleborough will probably fall by the wayside this year too.
I think there might be some lessons to be learned here!
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