Let me just start off by saying that as a runner, I am intrinsically and fundamentally against walking anywhere, at any time, unless it is absolutely necessary, like here or here.
Yesterday was Day One of the Snailathon training, and we walked 4 miles. I had gone to the physio for a rub in the morning, and although I was well aware that physio days are rest days, he did not specifically say "Do Not Walk" (although reflecting back now, I'm not sure why I would expect a physio to say such a thing to a runner). It turns out that a 4 mile walk on a gammy knee on physio day does not constitute rest, and consequently near the end of the walk my knee became inflamed and a little bit twingey. Daftness aside, however, I noticed several things during the walk:
Walking is very slow
This may seem like a fairly superfluous observation, but it wasn’t to me: my walk last night made me late for several people and events, even dinner, and made me realise that our Snailathon was more likely to take 8 hours than the rather optimistic 6.5 I had previously planned for.
I am only human
My runner’s cloak of Invincibility and Awesomeness was nowhere to be found, and I was left alone in the road feeling very vulnerable – human, almost - in the face of oncoming traffic. This has never happened before, and it was a very uncomfortable feeling. So, I stopped to give cars the priority, which was also an uncomfortable feeling.
I’m a polite, caring individual
No, really. I smiled, occasionally, at passing pedestrians. I stopped at road crossings and let the cars go first. I let little old ladies pass on the inside. I didn’t scowl at cyclists. I moved over to let runners go past on the pavement instead of hogging all the space and pushing them into the road (everyone should do this).
I can multitask during training
I could text people, have phone conversations, wear sunglasses, use a real calculator to work out my ETA and mile pace instead of bodging it in my head, and if I’d wanted to I could have had a three course dinner along the way. This last point makes me very excited about the marathon.
Runners smell good
Laundry powder and sweat. It’s delicious. I was inhaling their bodily odours as they passed by in a whoosh of sweatiness.
Some positive side effects:
I sweated slightly, although this may have been more to do with my apprehension at my sudden vulnerability in the face of traffic than a hardcore workout.
I feel significantly less irate today, and didn’t even get too upset when I found a tea bag skulking in my cup of coffee this morning (I don’t recommend it as a morning beverage)
I was able to have a whole conversation with a fellow runner about his training for Dublin without wanting to tear my left leg off and beat him over the head with it until he promised not to mention running, routes, training or marathons to me again.
On another note, I have taken up yoga, and recently yoga for runners (and yes, they are different: the yoga for runners is, erm, for runners, and its aim is to build strength, particularly in the legs and core. It’s not particularly relaxing, and it’s very early in the morning).
Yesterday was Day One of the Snailathon training, and we walked 4 miles. I had gone to the physio for a rub in the morning, and although I was well aware that physio days are rest days, he did not specifically say "Do Not Walk" (although reflecting back now, I'm not sure why I would expect a physio to say such a thing to a runner). It turns out that a 4 mile walk on a gammy knee on physio day does not constitute rest, and consequently near the end of the walk my knee became inflamed and a little bit twingey. Daftness aside, however, I noticed several things during the walk:
Walking is very slow
This may seem like a fairly superfluous observation, but it wasn’t to me: my walk last night made me late for several people and events, even dinner, and made me realise that our Snailathon was more likely to take 8 hours than the rather optimistic 6.5 I had previously planned for.
I am only human
My runner’s cloak of Invincibility and Awesomeness was nowhere to be found, and I was left alone in the road feeling very vulnerable – human, almost - in the face of oncoming traffic. This has never happened before, and it was a very uncomfortable feeling. So, I stopped to give cars the priority, which was also an uncomfortable feeling.
I’m a polite, caring individual
No, really. I smiled, occasionally, at passing pedestrians. I stopped at road crossings and let the cars go first. I let little old ladies pass on the inside. I didn’t scowl at cyclists. I moved over to let runners go past on the pavement instead of hogging all the space and pushing them into the road (everyone should do this).
I can multitask during training
I could text people, have phone conversations, wear sunglasses, use a real calculator to work out my ETA and mile pace instead of bodging it in my head, and if I’d wanted to I could have had a three course dinner along the way. This last point makes me very excited about the marathon.
Runners smell good
Laundry powder and sweat. It’s delicious. I was inhaling their bodily odours as they passed by in a whoosh of sweatiness.
Some positive side effects:
I sweated slightly, although this may have been more to do with my apprehension at my sudden vulnerability in the face of traffic than a hardcore workout.
I feel significantly less irate today, and didn’t even get too upset when I found a tea bag skulking in my cup of coffee this morning (I don’t recommend it as a morning beverage)
I was able to have a whole conversation with a fellow runner about his training for Dublin without wanting to tear my left leg off and beat him over the head with it until he promised not to mention running, routes, training or marathons to me again.
On another note, I have taken up yoga, and recently yoga for runners (and yes, they are different: the yoga for runners is, erm, for runners, and its aim is to build strength, particularly in the legs and core. It’s not particularly relaxing, and it’s very early in the morning).
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