In a manner no way typical of me I realised I had a few hours before I started my shift to register our flight details and print off the boarding passes as I was finishing at midnight, up early and out for the airport by 08.45 the next morning. That was a flap. Then it wouldn’t let me print off the return flight boarding pass so I had to download and register with the app to get an electronic boarding pass. I’d run out of time so I had to do that at work. I got it all sorted. Just. Then midnight finish, 01.30 before I got to sleep, up at 07.00, not the best of starts to the day.
We got to the airport and, because we’ve always stowed our bags in the hold, had no idea about the restrictions for carry on goods. Wendy had her perfume, hairspray and such stolen off her. We got held up as the bags were refused by the scanner for carrying liquids, etc. It was massive stress. We sat waiting for our flight, it was a bit late boarding, that’s how close we were, when Wendy came over proper poorly so we had to come home.
To be honest I was doing it more as a stressful chore I’d already paid for, than as something which I wanted to do. I’m still not feeling 100% most of the time, and if Wendy was too poorly to do her museums and art galleries and such it was just going to be a waste of time.
It cost us a lot. A lot. Flights, accommodation, airport parking, race, etc. All non-refundable. The final insult was the travel money. £704 to buy 800 euros. The next day I had to change them back. £582.69. A day. Robbing bastards!
Anyway, that didn’t happen. We got home and Wendy is recovering. No harm done.
Then I had to know. How would I have done on the marathon?
The next morning I got up and into my kit. I set out to see what would happen. I surprised myself by doing an 8.06 first mile. It felt easy. I was doing a 5 miles there and back, then an 8 miles there and back. After the first 10 miles I was 10 seconds off an 8.10 m/m average pace. Not too shabby, considering. I was already thinking about trying to drag back the 2 minutes to make it a sub 3.30 marathon. Then at 16 miles reality hit. An 8.30 mile, 8.29, then it dropped off a cliff. 8.43, 8.43, 8.58, 9.09. That took me to mile 21. Half way through, my pace had dropped to 9.41 m/m, I was in misery and my body had had enough for the last couple of miles, I quit.
Of course, being a there and back I still had to get home. So technically I did do a marathon, but it must have took me at least an hour and a half to limp, try to shuffle jog, limp that last 4.5 miles.
(Another fail I’ve just noticed. Because I’m on Linux now, not Windows, the Alt0189 code doesn’t insert a half symbol. Meh.)
I looked it up after the run. I’d done 27 runs in the 4 months prior to the race. None in the month prior to the race. And I was 10 days out of a dreadful bout of covid. Hindsight being 20/20 I obviously should not have made any attempt at holding a pace. I should have let my legs take me around at whatever pace they could manage.
I was a bit worried about post covid heart weakness. I wore my chest strap for accurate heart rate measurement, but when I checked it it said I was on 158bpm, out of a maximum of 164, so I stopped looking at it. Nobody wants a nay-sayer on the team. So the good news is I didn’t die. And I put in 21.5 miles. Good effort, all things considered. Also, it didn’t trigger full-on, lay on the floor and feel like crying, plague weakness. I was worried as I’m still not feeling great I might have got long covid again. Now I don’t think so. I think it’s just the bug taking it’s time to fully go.
I rested yesterday and today started my training again. All I managed was 5 slow miles that felt really hard, but it’s a start. It felt like what it was: payback for not training for months then trying to force my body through a nippy marathon. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
I’ve ordered a new carb for my Sportster, and a welder and all the paraphernalia, but I lack any energy/ drive to do anything. That feels very long covid. Everything is too much effort. When I force myself to do it I can, physically, but mentally I’m convinced I can’t. It’s weird and specific (in my experience) to bloody covid. I hope it passes soon. Wendy, after her diagnosis of a very low white blood cell count (so not having any resistance to infections) is much worse. She’s still low and floored by it.
I don’t know if when I regain my mojo I’ll change my mind, but right now I’m thinking of binning off the Spanish marathon. I’ve only paid for the race so far, so I’m not losing too much, but I just can’t be arsed with the hassle. I was thinking it would be an adventure, maybe ride the 1,200 miles to the race, do the run then ride back. But that’s literally 23 hours riding each way. For safety I’d probably need to sleep. So two days each way. Hmmm, looking into overnight accommodation. That would break it down into 12 hour stints. That’s do-able. Hmmm. I’ll think about it.
Later,
Buck.
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