A Running Proposition - Februlous Day 8

I want to say I lasted a whole 3 mins in the ice bath, but it was probably more like 2 mins 10 secs. It is recommended that you stick it out for 10 mins for maximum effect. But it is obv. SERIOUSLY UNPLEASANT and worse, time freezes as your body freezes. That was the longest two mins of my life, even despite keeping on my woolly running hat for warmth. I can’t now remember the pain of the cold, just trying to slow my breathing down to under 60 breaths a minute and keeping my legs moving under the water a) to ensure they kept functioning and b) to slosh some of the ice water over my quads – next time I need to add a bit more water to the bath!! I reluctantly say "next time" as I think even two minutes of icy immersion has made a difference. The muscles in my legs were definitely firing better during this morning’s run. It was far from easy, but having two fuctioning legs makes a massive difference!! Hopefully the threat of another ice bath torture session is enough to keep the legs on their best behaviour for at least another week.

I was back running with my rucksack today after three days rest!! Mainly to ensure that I have clean DRY clothes to wear post run and that I eat a healthy lunch of homemade salad rather than the customary two bought sandwiches or a sandwich and sushi. But the winds have died down and the sun was out and with it Spring peaking out from it's Winter guise. Running aside, it was BLISSFUL to be out in the sunshine ODing on Vitamin D, filling my lungs with London smog.

Day 8: 1 hour 12 mins on my Home to Waterloo route. Run included a bit of a sprint finish in a desperate bid to keep this run under 1 hour 15 mins, as I could hear Big Ben tolling 9am.

I'm a bit ashamed of this performance - I need, should and have to do better.  

Right now I feel like I'm cheating with all these walking breaks.

In truth I didn't realise there were so many.  

Tomorrow it's continuous running ALL the way. Come what may.

Run highlight: Being propositioned by Scooter Boy at the 3 km mark.

Pic courtesy of ESRF

Imagine the scene: I am holding myself up via the pedestrian crossing panel, gasping and looking tres dignified, waiting for the lights to change, when Scooter Boy raises his visor and starts talking to me.

I can see him speaking to me but I have literally no idea what he was saying – on account of there being no blood going to my ears or brain at this stage in the run. Lights change just as he’s about to get off his scooter and I relinquish my hold on the lamp post and plod on.

In hindsight I imagine that he was suggesting either:

1. I need to take it easy as I look like I’m having a heart attack but that fortunately he knows CPR


2. Am I being chased by a murderous raving lunatic as I am clearly not on a health improving jog?


3. Do I realise I’ve drooled down my jacket?


4. I’m about to send the lamp post toppling, leaning on it like that


5. Do I need a lift to A+E?

Just one of life’s little mysteries, that and the concept of ever achieving a sub hour 10km PB. xx