As I lay in bed in the dark on Saturday morning, listening to the rain running off the roof, tinkling into the gutters and onward, on it's relentless journey back to the sea. I thought to myself "that's another weekend lost to the weather" so I lay there for a bit longer, debating whether to get up or not! Eventually, boredom got the better of me (I'd been awake for at least 10 minutes by then) so decided to get up and make a cup of tea. A quick look at the weather forecast whilst I waited for the kettle to boil confirmed my fears, drizzle, leading to showers, leading to cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey. Great! So I took my cup of tea and retreated back to bed, planning to sulk and possibly hibernate until spring. Unfortunately the great hibernating plan didn't last long, by the time I'd supped my brew I'd remembered that A) Sitting in bed's pretty boring and B) I'm somewhat lacking in body fat stores to see me through 6 months of hibernation, so decided that I had better get up and have some breakfast. And thus began the typical, wintry, rainy, Saturday, inner argument with myself; What am I going to do today then? It's grim, wintry and wet, go back to bed. No, that's a waste of a day, lets play bikes. Errr, it's still dark and it's wet out. It won't be dark for long and I won't melt, come on lets go me. Nope. It's grim. Right inner monologue, I'm not arguing any more, let's go. Ohhh let's just have another cup of tea. Nope, put it in a flask, lets go. Ohhh, let's just get a different jacket, change socks, put some washing on, anything that will delay going out. Nope, lets go, But it's raining. Come on! Get out of the house me!!!! Eventually, after an eternity of arguing with myself, at a smidgen before 08:00, I managed to drag my lazy arse out of the door. Only to discover that it wasn't actually that cold, it was only drizzling and it was almost light, things were looking up! Another 10 minutes of faffing around trying to find reasons not to go; Better pump up these tyres that I pumped up yesterday, better put this spanner away that's been sat here for 6 months, etc. COME ON ME, LETS GO! And you know what. When I finally swung my foot over the saddle, clipped in and pushed down on the peddles for the first time, I thought, well that's not so bad is it. As I pulled onto the still deserted roads and started picking up speed, I felt that familiar grin start to form on my lips. By the time I reached the end of the road, with the drizzle dampening my face and the sound of the tyres swishing through the puddles on the wet road I was as happy as Larry (whoever he is). 4 1/2 hours and 55 miles of damp, deserted, wet and muddy roads later, as I rolled to a final stop back at home, I still had a smile on my face. Granted it was a bit of a damp one, but luckily, I didn't melt or turn into a pumpkin! I'd sat and watched the boats, runners and dog walkers on the canal, when I stopped too drink that brew that I put in my flask. I'd seen a few other cyclists, a few horse riders, plenty of wildlife and lots of puddles. I'd slogged up a few hills and sped down the other side, and all in all, had a great morning, as I knew I would once I got out there. So, why oh why, is it so hard to find the motivation to get up and go out to play in the winter? It's a constant battle with your inner self, it's cold, it's dark, it's wet, lets just stay in and watch TV. No, stay strong and keep getting out there. Not only do "winter miles equal summer smiles" but winter days are often some of the best cycling and running days going. The roads are quieter. No ones going to go for a drive in their unnecessary 4x4 in the winter are they, it might get muddy! A cold and crisp day can be stunning, and on a wet and miserable day, there's a great feeling of satisfaction in being one of the few idiots who are stupid enough to be out and about. The cold is invigorating, and being out helps keep the bugs at bay, maybe. I don't think there's any science in this claim, but coming in out of the cold and wet is always great and it makes me feel better! There are bound to be a few more inner self arguments over the next few months, but just remember and remind yourself, that the hardest part is getting out the door! Once your out the door, it's great to be out, no matter what the weathers throwing at you. Oh, and apparently, there's no such thing as the wrong weather, only the wrong clothes. Which is easy to say if you don't mind spending the entire budget of a small country on a jacket or sleeping bag, but maybe not quite so true if your a normal person. Guess I'd better get out and get some value for money out of that jacket then! Some days you can happily run effortlessly for hours on end, other days even a mile is hard work and Sunday was one of those days. I'd taken the van down to Alresford after tea Saturday night, with the plan being to get an early 18 mile trail run in on Sunday morning. That part of the plan worked a treat and I was up early after a great nights sleep. Eating breakfast sat on the van door step, listening to the birds signing in the damp mist that enveloped the world, I couldn't think of anywhere I would rather be and I was raring to go by 08:00.
My legs didn't seem to share my enthusiasm today though, and it took a while to get into a steady rhythm, my legs feeling unusually stiff and heavy. The first 6 or 7 miles are generally uphill heading from Alresford towards Basingstoke and I made steady progress, gently plodding along in the mist, enjoying the cool damp air and the feel of the soft wet earth under my feet. As the miles progressed and the birdsong was drowned out by the drone of the M3, still some miles away, but clearly audible, even through the mist, things got harder. My legs feeling heavier and heavier and it becoming harder and harder to maintain a steady pace, particularly uphill. I suppose every day can't be a good day and today was going to be one of those bad ones. By the time I'd got to 14 miles, I'd lost the mental battle, slowing to a walk on the uphill sections, and once the mental sides gone the game is up! A slow plod back to the van, walking the uphill's, saw me back in under 3 hours for the days 17.5 miles, so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much. And, whilst it wasn't a particularly enjoyable run, it was still good to be out in the fresh air and undoubtedly better than sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, eating biscuits and watching repeats of Saturday Kitchen. I suppose every day can't be a good day, and running on tired legs, whilst not being much fun, is all part and parcel of training. It's loosing that metal battle that's the most frustrating part. If you can stay focused and ignore the parts of your body that are begging to stop, then you can do anything. As soon as doubt starts to slip in, or you even consider cutting the day short, or start looking for an easier option, then you might as well stop as its only a matter of time before you loose the battle and quit!
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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