I remembered to remember and took two ladyfinger bananas to work for my afternoon snack, mostly to avoid yesterday's perishing-by-6pm debacle but mostly because I can't believe that something you can buy in the supermarket can be called a ladyfinger.
I bribed myself by saying that if I ran my 20 at 8 then I could go home after 30 minutes, but I was secretly keeping from myself that after the run I reckoned I could have a little go on the elliptical and maybe do some walking. Big fail that one - I underestimated my own ability to overestimate my own abilities.
I took a couple of minutes to find my pace, feeling a bit wonky and slapdash as I went. Once I settled in again I enjoyed the pace and could see, half reflected in the windows in front of me, that I actually looked like I was running. Ten minutes in I was having the usual mental whine, but was pretty strict with myself and I powered on remembering how easy 10 at 8 (9 at 8 plus 1 at 10 really) was the other day.
By about 12 or 13 minutes I had agreed to stop at 15. My breathing was shallow and hard, and I could really feel myself getting to the end. I was disappointed and felt let down, as I'd been so sure that 20 would be totally do-able. My legs felt fine; it was just the effort of continuing, the breathing, and the pain down my left scapula (I've learnt to run through minor stitches, thank God).
So at about 14 minutes I was all prepared to stop. I'd run a bit less than 2.5km (including my three minute walking warmup) which was pretty dashing and was feeling terribly cross and annoyed with myself.
But I hadn't counted on the Gunners. Sweet Child O' Mine came on my iPod, and it's what I usually pick to round off the last few minutes - and here it was. I was damned if I let Axl down and turned him off. Thanks Mr Rose.
I made the 20 but was unpleasantly surprised at how difficult I found it. I had fully expected to be able to run for 25, and was going to stop at an easy 20 so that I was encouraged for next time. Not so - I was really run out after 20 minutes and what was worse was that I finished the run without any of the happy hormones or positive self-talk that I usually end up with. I felt flat and cross and I grumpily walked for a cranky 15 to finish off. My 20 minute run and 5 minutes of warm up/cool down time led me to just over 3kms - not good at all if that's as far as I can make it at this slow pace.
I'm happy that I did what I said I would - 20 at 8 - and that I am definitely wanting to run at 8 as my standard pace - but I'm really disheartened about how difficult I found it. I'll try to try once more this week and on Saturday when I have a gym date with my dad, but I will really be looking for improvement soon to encourage me on.
I've also decided not to sign up for the Run Melbourne 5km. It would require some real commitment and I'm just not willing to take on any more commitments whatsoever under Operation Simplify My Life. If I'm on track beforehand and there's room to sign up I might do it, but I won't be training for it specifically and I won't consider it a finite goal. So there!
I bribed myself by saying that if I ran my 20 at 8 then I could go home after 30 minutes, but I was secretly keeping from myself that after the run I reckoned I could have a little go on the elliptical and maybe do some walking. Big fail that one - I underestimated my own ability to overestimate my own abilities.
I took a couple of minutes to find my pace, feeling a bit wonky and slapdash as I went. Once I settled in again I enjoyed the pace and could see, half reflected in the windows in front of me, that I actually looked like I was running. Ten minutes in I was having the usual mental whine, but was pretty strict with myself and I powered on remembering how easy 10 at 8 (9 at 8 plus 1 at 10 really) was the other day.
By about 12 or 13 minutes I had agreed to stop at 15. My breathing was shallow and hard, and I could really feel myself getting to the end. I was disappointed and felt let down, as I'd been so sure that 20 would be totally do-able. My legs felt fine; it was just the effort of continuing, the breathing, and the pain down my left scapula (I've learnt to run through minor stitches, thank God).
So at about 14 minutes I was all prepared to stop. I'd run a bit less than 2.5km (including my three minute walking warmup) which was pretty dashing and was feeling terribly cross and annoyed with myself.
But I hadn't counted on the Gunners. Sweet Child O' Mine came on my iPod, and it's what I usually pick to round off the last few minutes - and here it was. I was damned if I let Axl down and turned him off. Thanks Mr Rose.
I made the 20 but was unpleasantly surprised at how difficult I found it. I had fully expected to be able to run for 25, and was going to stop at an easy 20 so that I was encouraged for next time. Not so - I was really run out after 20 minutes and what was worse was that I finished the run without any of the happy hormones or positive self-talk that I usually end up with. I felt flat and cross and I grumpily walked for a cranky 15 to finish off. My 20 minute run and 5 minutes of warm up/cool down time led me to just over 3kms - not good at all if that's as far as I can make it at this slow pace.
I'm happy that I did what I said I would - 20 at 8 - and that I am definitely wanting to run at 8 as my standard pace - but I'm really disheartened about how difficult I found it. I'll try to try once more this week and on Saturday when I have a gym date with my dad, but I will really be looking for improvement soon to encourage me on.
I've also decided not to sign up for the Run Melbourne 5km. It would require some real commitment and I'm just not willing to take on any more commitments whatsoever under Operation Simplify My Life. If I'm on track beforehand and there's room to sign up I might do it, but I won't be training for it specifically and I won't consider it a finite goal. So there!
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