Sunday, 5 March 2017

Couch to 5k Week three

Week Three 27.2.17

Steps 3161  km 2.54  cal. 239  time 25m

Hmm… my stats seem to be a little down on last week.  To the discerning analyst it would perhaps suggest that my fitness level has taken a small hit of the ‘weekend away’ variety.

On the other hand, it could be that the very basic counter is not very accurate on Mondays.

Breakfast was porridge.  TV was dominated by the Oscar Awards mess-up.  Do you think Fay Dunnaway failed to read the nomination properly?  Or at all?  Very entertaining, very gracious, not very bright.  Heads will roll, but only some will care.  Other news was tragic.  Mobile phone users cause road accidents – who knew?  So police it!  Create a device to disable phones in cars?  Or am I being naïve?

On with the kit and out into the white day.  Coolish and drizzle a possibility, but for the moment it’s dry (except for the grass).  I begin with the five-minute warm up.  Then it’s 90 secs running/90 secs walking, followed by 3 mins running/3mins walking.  For total of 25 mins (including warm up).

Music begins with Telegraph Road – a Dire Straits epic.  Can’t say I was thrilled with it in the context of my regime.  Bit ploddy. Went on, and on, and on.  Fabulous, of course, but still a bit ploddy.  No skipping rule remained in force and I listened to the interminable journey through decades and across miles.  Went into a kind of daze. Nice guitar bits. Daze.

Then came an Echo and the Bunnymen selection.  Not much of an improvement – but I did get into People are Strange.  The lyrics can’t be that simple and yet incomprehensible, can they? 

Never mind.

Time is nearly up.  I have a slight twinge in my right shin.  I slow to a walk for the last minute.  This is payback for missing my Friday run. 

Into the house and do my stretches (a bit). 

Week three needs to be taken seriously.  Who can I find to do such a thing?

Life is calling – housework first, then shopping, then writing.  Or I could start the other way round.  

A mercredi x

Week Three 1.3.17

Steps 3202  km 2.56  cal. 241  time 25m

Well.  Breakfast was toast and Marmite (one slice) and marmalade (the other slice) preceded by a glass of green tea and accompanied by a cup of Yorkhire.  Outside, the weather was asking for a derogatory comment, but I went straight to the living room for the latest BBC could offer.

Today we will be fined more for using a mobile phone whilst in our car and will have six points instead of three on our licence.  Newly qualified drivers will potentially lose their licence.  Don’t know whether to be pleased or not.  Sounds like fluff. Why are human beings so difficult to train?

More news about Trump and his new, more stately image.  More news about football.  And lovely Carol brings us giant daffodils, tranquil lakes, another version of the only dress design she possesses, an unstable hair piece and an irresistibly jolly demeanor.  Thank you, Carol, for your everlasting positivity.

Outside, the weather is still vile.  Should I brave it?


Four o’clock in the afternoon and it’s stopped raining.  Off I go.  Warm up, brisk five minutes walk and, up to my heels in mud, I break into what can only be described as a dangerously euphoric jog.

Today I have Echo and the Bunnymen in all their forms.  They sound like an 80s band (cue xylophone).  They sound like U2 – nice pipes.  They sound like The Cure.  Maybe they just sound too generic for their own good.  Nice tunes, though.  Pleasant.  Just about right for jogging and thinking about something entirely different. 

I pass the washing line and a wet towel slaps me across the face.

New game of dodge the towel – nice distraction.

The garden is very soggy.  It’s the time of year when roses start to come into leaf only to rot on the stems before being burned to a crisp by the French sunshine.  Every year I get rid of the most susceptible varieties and every year I try another.  Result – more blackspot and yellow leaves.

What we need is astroturf and a pool.

I notice there is a bird’s nest in the Red Robin bush.  It seems that the sacrifice made by previous birds to the cat kingdom is a ritual that will continue.  What to do?  Spray cat deterrent? Build a fence? Frighten away the bird?  Let nature take its course?

Last year the cat did the frightening.  Mother bird fled.  Baby birds got eaten (I presume).

I check my time.  Three minutes left.  I could run for another hour or so…

Inside for stretches and time for a nice coffee – we have a machine!  Al is now officially running on caffeine – locked away in his office being a wage slave. 

I’m running on sauerkraut, grated carrot and boiled ham.  Got to shift a few kilos for the good weather.  Only fair on the neighbours.

A vendredi x

Week Three 3.3.17

Steps 3203  km 2.57  cal. 242  time 25m

Toast, tea, grapefruit juice and, on a sudden whim, a little of the next episode of Fortitude to ease ourselved into the day.  Must say I’m hooked. 

I have a student this morning – exceptionellement.  So running is delayed a little, allowing the sun to establish itself in my French garden.  Nice.  I change, forget to warm up and get outside before someone asks me to do anything. 

Echo and the Bunnymen are Breaking the Back of Love and I’m loving it.  Tones of Bowie.  Energising.  Then comes Frankie with Two Tribes and I up my pace.  It’s time I cut the grass.  Need rabbits or a goat.

The wind blows my hair around and the music keeps coming.  Then, disaster!  Gary Jules and Mad World.  It’s as though I’ve been given chocolates, a good book and a sedative.  I ramp up my resistance and don’t skip the song, punching the air I let the lyrics fly over my head.  Going nowhere, going nowhere…  No expression, no expression… Why does he have to repeat everything.  I’m on a downward spiral.  When people run in circles…My hackles rise.  I will not give in. 

At last, Radar Love!  Memories of university life, a well-stocked juke box, Special Brew and blackcurrant.  I’m back in the smoke, in the dirt and the LIFE.  Keele, with its vibrant students’ union and liberal politics.  Rugby boys bare their bums in the bar, girls keep their distance and smoke demurely (some of them).  There is noise and a sense that anything is possible.

Time’s up.  My cheeks glow.  It’s almost time for lunch.

Happy days!

See you next week?  I’ll try to have some pics next time.

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