Hard Jog

It had been a week since my last run when I pulled on my trainers this morning. In all fairness to myself, most of this wasn’t due to my old enemy Lazy Chris triumphing, and down to me being away, busy or ill.

I’d meant to run on Monday but was a little bushed after the weekend so wound up sleeping until shortly before noon, which is rare for me because I’m not much for lie-ins. And then on Tuesday I was struck down by a bug which meant I did nothing other than lie on my mum’s sofa watching the first 17 episodes of Smallville season 1.

Quality sick day viewing.

So, feeling better, I was determined to run this morning.

It was a very tough run.

I always struggle on the first run back after a prolonged break, and it didn’t help I was running out of my mum’s house today. Running near my mum’s usually means my distances suffer, because its all up and down hills, whereas my home run is mainly on the flat. So, I’d anticipated that my run wouldn’t be one of my best.

However. due to the scorching heat it was doubly hard and by the time I got done with my 55 minutes I was utterly knackered, sore and drenched in sweat.

I’d struggled along and at one point considered pulling the plug early, or turning round and returning on an easier route, but since starting running I’ve gained this new kind of dedication and if not injured I won’t stop and don’t like turning around. Its my Juggernaut instinct kicking in.

It’s the Juggernaut, bitch!

I was also gasping for a drink so I think from now on I’ll have to remember to take a bottle of water with me when the sun is shining.

Any thoughts? You know what to do. BETEO.


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