I suppose that it was inevitable that after a series of really good runs and generally getting faster that at some stage the wheels would come off.

Well, they did. Here’s how:

1.       Saturday was always going to be a busy day so my only real chance for a run was an early one.  I left the house before 7. Stupid. I was still very tired and would gladly have slept on for hours.

2.       We ate pizza last night for convenience but not very filling so was running on empty this morning.

3.        It was dark – well – apart from the full moon and so sign of any sun even attempting to come up over the horizon. Trying setting your Garmin in the moonlight!

4.       What’s more it was clearly very cold last night – at noon coming back from town the temperature on the car thermometer was only 2C so at 7 in the moonlight and a clear sky it must have been low.

5.       There was a frost and some black ice and all the ditches were frozen over.  

6.       I had decided last night that I was going to run in gloves as my hand just get so cold, but I could only find one. My left hand was beautifully warm, my right hand was numb with pain after about 10 minutes.

7.       Mr Garmin was still playing tricks with me. All my runs from home involve going to the end of out little street and turning right, - I have done this hundreds of times and whether with Mrs Nike or Mr Garmin I know to the nearest bush where the one mile point is. Not today. Mr Garmin had me doing another 100 yds before the little buzzer went off.

8.        And where did the breeze come from?? In the valley the air was still and frosty but on top of the hills there was a definite breeze and it was in my face and very cold. Two tops, short and leggings and a woolly hat and one glove, I was still cold.

I bet Paula Radcliffe never has these problems.

The run itself wasn’t great either. I left the house in the dark and by the time I passed my mile marker with no peep from Mr Garmin my mood was not very positive. Still, I trudged on. The pace was not great but at least it was consistent. I had a gel at about mile 3, which gave me a slight lift up a long slow hill and then – by means of an experiment – tried some new fangled energy sweets – like a high tech version of jelly babies – at about mile 8. I had just done another long slow climb so though it would be a good idea. Well with one numb hand I failed miserably to open the packet where it should have opened so gave a big tug and spilt the contents on the road but managed to catch a few in the gloved hand, which I gulped down and was almost sick on the spot. No more of those! Trudge home weary and nauseous after 9.2 miles (probably more but had given up arguing with Mr G at that stage). Total mileage for the month down slightly from my predicted in the last post but reasonable enough under the circumstances.

Next week will be different. I hope.

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