PS from roller girl

Just to say Adam the running trainer is keen I keep using my roller.

We did some at the end of last night. Adam laughing, me silently screaming. I am not very good with pain. He swears it will get easier. I’m not convinced.

But anyway, just to say I’ve been scooting around the sitting room floor in my pyjamas as I experiment with taking my roller seriously and do some every night. But only a bit. Because it kills.


Dilettante of the gym

Apparently I’m a bit of a dilettante.

MrM hoots with laughter when we walk past the golf course and I’m watching the golfers trundle  their clubs about in their natty smart casual clothes. He just says ‘no’ and then gaffaws a bit more. He knows how interests go with me… He likes to remind me how I’ve read every Henning Mankell novel ever written and seen every Jean Cocteau film.

You see, I am an obsessive, but I’m an obsessive dilettante so ‘yes’ I do wear a Breton top every time we go out (I own five, what’s not to like about stripes?). I can be really, really, REALLY into something and then… not so much. I’ll be over Breton tops by September, even if two of them are real sailing tops from the cutest little shop on Shaftsbury Avenue where they sell sailing ropes and hooks and not much else…

And at the moment I am really, really not into running on the treadmill in the gym. Over it. I get too hot, I keep banging my hands and I swear I run worse on it than I do outside. I did one mile of steady pace, speeding up for a tenth of a mile, but it felt hard work. And not fun hard work.

But I am loving the weights. Well they’re a new toy aren’t they – and so many of them.

At last night’s training session with Adam I did 12kg kettlebell (Hello? Anyone want to buy a 6kg kettlebell, bought at Christmas? I want a bigger one), stepping onto a box swinging an 8kg medicine ball (was using 4kg last winter) and doing lunges while pushing 5kg dumbbells. I can jump forever, till my calves are on fire, and I’m a fan of the bosu contraption. I had a go at rowing and learning how to use your whole body, not just your arms, and I did squats walking sideways like a hot sweaty crab (not one for impressing anyone, I can tell you).

This week is all about one-mile intervals and now my blistered throat has cleared up I’m thinking good to go.

I’m planning on doing three sets of three-mile intervals this week.

What are everyone’s training goals this week? Do you set goals every week or do you have chill-out weeks too?

Does anyone else find their treadmill running isn’t as good as their outside performance?

Run done

Of course it poured with rain this morning, April showers at their best and most annoying.

I did a loop down to Withington, up to Didsbury, across the river (using the bridge ;)) and back home. Took just under 50 minutes to get round four miles, so I think we can assume I’m slightly hampered by this infection. A bit of wading through flooded pathways involved but I felt strong even if I was moving at the speed of an athletic snail.

I’ve got training tomorrow anyway so no over-doing anything. And a nice afternoon of yoga and hanging out with MrM is on the agenda. We was kind enough to indulge my childhood passion for David Essex (don’t go making judgements, I was nine) by buying me the DVD of Stardust as I was far too young to see it when it came out, or indeed when it was on tv late at night years later. So we’ll be watching that later. Or rather I’ll be watching and he’ll be making sarcastic comments from the other end of the sofa.

Gothica on the way to training

Seeing the seasons paint our landscapes is one of the joys of running.

We see the first light shift back to our early morning running times, we notice buds spring from trees that seemed dead just a couple of weeks ago. We spot bulb flowers forcing their way up from the blankets of dead leaves, we hear the dawn chorus greet us as we open our front doors to the early morning air. From the deathly, silent, darkness of winter it seems as though light, noise and life of nature is back. And how welcome it is.

A few weeks ago it was dark when I got to my 8am running training sessions on Sunday mornings. But now there’s light enough to take pictures, though these shots of Whythenshawe Hall still look moody. I don’t know much about the history of the hall, but your imagination could run riot.

whythenshawe hall

Spooky: whythenshawe hall

Scary trees

Scary trees

Through the gates: Whythenshawe Hall

Through gates: Whythenshawe Hall