I’ve been to a lot of conferences recently, which has cured me of any bug I’ve never had to go to lots of conferences. What? Did that not make sense? Well, I’m tired (I’ve been to lots of conferences).
Conferences have got in the way of me doing running. In fact, since the last blog entry, I’ve only been for 2 runs. One was about 5K and one was about 8.5K. The first one… well, I can’t remember anything about it, so you’re spared that story (you don’t exist, so you’re spared all of them). The second one was in Rotterdam. It was quite pleasant. I ran from my hotel to a park, around a lake, and back. There was no weather; it wasn’t cold, warm, raining or windy. One thing of note though: the sun was red.
I dun a run with Rob last weekend and ran home from work (the long way) on Tuesday, but haven’t done anything since. I could’ve gone today, but I didn’t, so wha you gunna do? I’ll go tomorrow. Back off.
I’m not really a runner, let’s face it. I give it a go every now and then, but some people do it all the bloody time. They’re the real runners. And they don’t talk about it constantly like I do. They don’t have to, because they’re not feeling guilty that they haven’t been for a run for ages. They run so much that running isn’t A Thing for them. I hate them so much. Runbos, I (ve just decided to) call ’em.🏃
I’m currently on a Population Genetics course at the Wellcome Trust Genome Campus in Hinxton, which is apparently near Cambridge, but might as well be a made-up Teletubby land where everyone’s super clever and the food is lush and there’s a cat and slugs everywhere 👌
It’s a good place to go for a run. I even did it for a bit (20 minutes) at 7am with a colleague from Bristol. But obvs I haven’t done it since. I’ve just told everyone I’ve met about it.
“I might go for a run after the course tonight”. THIS IS A LIE.
“A run before dinner will perk me up a bit”. THIS IS A LIE.
“I’m training for a marathon”. LET’S FACE IT, THIS IS PROBABLY A LIE.
I don’t know why I’m lying to these nice people. They just want to know how to carry out a GWAS.
In other news, I’ve had a full English breakfast, several lunchtime cakes and at least a two course dinner every day. EVERY day. I’m awful.
Thanx 4 reading x
I dun three more runs that I haven’t yet documented:
1) 8K on Saturday – weirdly great. Started slow, which was a good plan as I was then able to get into a good rhythm, keep running and finish fast (in the pouring rain along the river path)
2) 4K on Sunday – weirdly awful. Rob came with me, which was nice, but then he started to feel really dizzy, which was not nice. So we turned back early and mostly walked home.
3) 4K on Tuesday – pointless. Well, probably not pointless, but I went for a run to clear my head after an intense day of R. Except I spent the whole time thinking about an article I’m writing. Then I thought I was 1K further in than I actually was, and when I realised what had happened I lost motivation/hope and started walking.
So. Today I need to go for a proper run, not a 4K run/walk.
I “need” to tell “you” about a couple of runs I’ve done since the last time I told “you” I’d been for a run.
The first was a whole 10K. Slow, but I’m glad I did it. 1h 10m I think it was.
The second was 6K home from work last night. This was the first run I’ve had recently where I felt reasonably comfortable throughout.
So all in all I’m feeling pretty confident about the running.
I’m trying to lose 5kg, which is going less well. In the Summer I lost about 3.5kg merely by becoming a vegan and cutting out carbs where possible. Trying the same thing currently but it’s just not working. Probably because I keep eating eggs and dairy and carbs.
Being a healthy person is hard.
I haven’t been very good at going for a run this week. I’ve been working pretty hard (at work) though, so it’s not like I’m lazy. Lay off me.
I went for a run this morning though. Convinced Rob to join me. A pretty slow 5k around a weird route that included 1) a council estate, 2) too many uphill bits, too early on, 3) a muddy wood 4) three bridges of differing sizes, 5) an over enthusiastic final sprint, and 6) a trip to co-op to buy eggs and beans.
When we got back, I cooked us a much-needed vegetarian full English. Then we had a little snooze and now, shamefully, it’s 16:32. So maybe I’m a little bit lazy after all.
Anyway, the reason for me writing this (other than wanting to document all my boring runs for no one to read) is to stop me instead sending passive aggressive emails. My couple o’ boobs & X chromosomes don’t make me less able to carry out the menial task you’re asking me to do, so please feel free to stop being a dick about it.
Alright. Fine now. 🦄
‘Ere we go then.
Yesterday, which was a Sunday, I went for a run. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to feel guilty about not going. On Saturday night I ate a whole Domino’s pizza to myself with a side of garlic pizza bread (yes, double pizza), washed down with a “Green Monday”, which is Rob’s answer to a Blue Hawaii – incredibly sweet and alcoholic, but not very nice (sorry Rob). For Sunday lunch I had cheese and pickle on a toasted bagel, washed down with a bag of salt and vinegar McCoys. For Sunday dinner, I wanted to eat a massive Sunday roast, with a Galaxy Ripple for afters. So you can see that to avoid obesity, it would be necessary to go for a run.
4km in 26 minutes, which isn’t great, obviously, but is better than nothing. Plus there was at least one hill involved, and I didn’t stop and walk for a bit like usual. So actually, it WAS bloody great… It was reasonably nice to be back on my “home turf” (i.e. Brislington).
Now I’m trying to convince myself to go for another run. I’ve just finished an intense day of writing, so a run would probably do me good. I’ve literally never hated running half as much as I hate the thought of running, and the feeling afterwards is always better than the feeling before, which should be a good enough incentive… but, ugh, running.
Off. I. Go…
In. A. Bit…
5km 🙂 I am a sweaty mess now
Hi nobody! Long time no type at you!
Remember 2015? No Brexit, no Trump, no dead celebrities, little cause for worry about a nuclear holocaust, I ran a marathon, etc… Remember all that?
Well, now it’s 2017 and everything has changed…EXCEPT FOR ONE THING!! (I’ve decided to run a marathon again and document my tedious training experience on this blog.)
With a little help from a friend (he came up with the idea completely), I’m calling the sequel to my 2015 London Marathon adventure “Zero 2 Zurich”, because 1) it’s definitely important to give a CATCHY name to my self-indulgent attempt to become fit, 2) I currently do ZERO running or exercise of any other kind, 3) The marathon may or may not be in ZURICH, which I recently discovered to be one of the prettiest places on earth.
So, come along with me, reader-who-doesn’t-exist, as I tell you all about my running in the hope that it will encourage me to actually do some running.
I did it!
My brain is a bit broken now, so this will be mercifully short, but I bloody did it!
4hrs 50mins 42secs… I’m so so happy with that.
I AM one of those annoying people who says they’re going to fail exams and then ends up doing pretty well, but I had no idea I was an extra annoying person who says they’re going to take 7 hours to run 26.2 miles and then does it much faster.
The first half was a bit like that dream I had a few nights ago – absolutely fine. The second half was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced and it went on for ages.
The most important thing: I didn’t poo myself (yesssss!).
I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead.
At school my latin teacher once told us that the latin for “tomorrow” sounds a bit like the noise a crow makes. I can’t remember the latin for tomorrow, so who knows if that’s true, but if it is those Romans must’ve found crows pretty creepy.
I’m on a bus to London so that tomorrow I can run/walk 26.2 miles around it. It would’ve been nice (not “nice”, but you know, better) to run it all, but I just didn’t do enough training. There we go. There’s always next year (there isn’t).
I’m pretty nervous. What if I injure myself forever? What if I poo myself in front of all those spectators (I have read of too many instances of marathon runners doing this and am now mildly obsessed with avoiding it at all costs), what if there aren’t enough jelly babies? Hmm? What if?
Although I’m really nervous and stressed and stuff, I think I have to stay in this state until it’s all over else there’s a real risk that I’ll realise that it doesn’t really matter and no one really cares… And if I realise that, then why the hell am I bothering?
That’s right. I’m having an existential crisis on a megabus. It’s probably quite common.