Wind-down to the British 10K on Sunday is officially on. I did another 10.1km training run on Monday night round Clapham, in a respectable 51 mins, and followed it up with a cheeky wee 5.5-er this evening round 2 laps of the park, breaking the 30 minute barrier for the first time in years in the process.
I'm feeling in pretty good shape, all things considered. Apart from the thigh chafe. Something has happened to my legs - they've got chunkier or I've started running like a constipated penguin. Whatever the reason, as proven tonight, I can't even do a 30 minutes without lycra if I don't want to be walking like John Wayne for two days afterwards. Don't know which is the worse image - me in lycra shorts, or with red raw inner thighs. Can post some photos if you ask nicely to help you decide.
I was thinking back to my preparation for the last race as I tootled round the park this evening, and recalled that the Wednesday before the Scotland Run, I spent the evening getting soggy at Yankee stadium followed by drunk in the East Village, before walking approximately 20 miles a day for the next 3 days as we sight-saw all of Manhattan (in some cases more than once). I'm revelling in the fact I can do virtually no exercise now until Sunday, sleep loads and focus on stocking up on pasta. Less so, the 'not being in New York' part.
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