As I have the Gloucester 10k coming up, I thought I should probably fit in a session of mile reps... Wow that sentence makes me sound super fit. Mile reps are probably my favourite but least favourite session in the week, mainly because running my tits off for a whole mile is actually bloody hard, but also really liberating and it makes me look faster than I actually am....... You'd never catch me going that fast on a long run.
After my week of debauchery at Glastonbury (PLEASE SEE PREVIOUS POST, SLACKERSSSS), my face (and heart) dropped when coach Dave said to me "so you're doing your mile reps this week?". UHHH DAAAAVE. Why does he do this to me? Run-guilt took over though, and I sweetly replied "yes Dave, how many would you like me to do" (so dedicated, back in ye olde day I would've told him to shove his mile reps somewhere else...). With the Glos 10k looming, he decided that four reps would be an adequate amount. Not toooooo bad.
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| Evidence for the h8rs |
I have a mile route that I follow along the main road by my house - for those Keynshamers among us, I run from the Cadbury's site to just past Londonderry farm. According to Google maps it's exactly a mile, although it could be a bit less - I don't know how accurate it is and I'd rather say its less than more innittttt, don't want to get ahead of myself. Usually when I do my reps my eyes are pretty much fixed on my watch. NOT THIS WEEK SISTAAAA. I decided I'd probably be slower so to just run as fast as my little legs could take me, and accept the time when I got to the finish. I have a 3 minute rest between each mile, which is more than enough for me to get my breath back.
The last time I did these miles I was running at around 6.55-7.05 ish for each one, going flat out. This week I set off well fast, and finished the first one in 6.48. This week I also decided to dress as a pink flump and was attracting quite a lot of attention (oi oi, white van men) so I really had to get my ass in gear. CRAZILY the next three times went like this: 6.42, 6.44, 6.42... and I was running wellllllll out of my comfort zone and my face was clashing with my on-point outfit. On my third mile I wanted to give up and lie at the roadside, panting like a dog, but luckily my best friend Rosa drove past at the optimum moment and I couldn't let my babygirl down now, could I?
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| Flump |
All in all, I was pretty chuffed with my effort on a FRIDAY EVENING (for christ sake Emma, get a life). I think it's my favourite session because it makes me work really, really hard and proves to me that I can run faster if I put my mind to it. I also noticed just how much effort I have to put into running, even on my warm down I was sweating like the pink little pig I was dressed as. I wish I could glide along looking effortlessly, a la my bestest running buddy from back in the day, Sophie (HOLLAAAA), but I have come to accept that I am not a pretty lady when it comes to exercise. But that's fine, as long as I'm not caught on camera...........
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| OH WAIT. Sorry to post this again #fugly |
*my boyfriend, Nath, has requested a mention in my blog. So to shoehorn him in: My boyfriend always notices how when I have a particularly heavy weekend of drinking and little sleep, I tend to run realllyyyy well the next week. This seems to be true post-Glasto. MAYBE I should just get drunk and race? I'll ask Dave about that one.
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