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So, the saga continues. I know I said that this was going to start on Tuesday, but Sunday rolled around and I decided that there really was no point in waiting. So on went the shoes, and the tracksuit, and off I went.

See, that happened at about 5pm. And if you go to Met.ie, and look up the daily data for Dublin Airport at that time, you’ll see that 1mm of rain fell at that time.

All at once.

On my head.

About half way through the first mile I realised this was not going to level off. I kept going, because I had to; there was no way I was giving up on the first mile of the first run. But ye gods! Everything was soaking wet; the hair, the leggings, all of it. I was honestly worried the phone was going to go with all that water.  I saw a kid out there in shorts and a jacket and wondered where the hell were his parents…

I will say that the number of joggers-nods increased. This is a phenomenon whereby joggers/runners show their mutual respect by giving a solemn nod to each other as they pass. No words, just a nod, implying that we are all in a special club, and everyone else is just running because they’re late somewhere. I got several nods on Sunday, even from the wiry ‘I haven’t stopped running since Gay Byrne was on the Late Late show’ types, and I felt very special. I made it home and had the most amazing shower ever. That evening I looked out and saw the same kid, still wondering around the estate. What the hell was going on?

 

Monday – Rest day. Ambrosia from the Gods day.

 

Tuesday– Swimming day. Packed up my dust-covered (not kidding) swim suit and headed over to the pool at work. I swam for twenty minutes, with no headaches, dizziness or trouble. I was as slow as a mule, which, if you picture one in a pool is pretty much what we have here.

Weeeeeee!

Swim, in short, was fine. Getting myself ready to be productive at my desk took me forever (shower, dress, hair, makeup, and go). I need one of these, me thinks.

 

Wednesday; felt that pleasant ache in my muscles. All good.

 

Thursday; Right, when to go for a run? Couldn’t do it during lunch hour, so instead pulled on the runners before I went to pick up the child. And oh my God the difference. Running after a day’s work, even desk work, is much much harder on the body and soul. Firstly, lots of lovely people about, to comment and smile that smile, the smile that is both smug and amused at the same time. Bless ‘em in their ear.

Secondly, it is harder. I was more tired, and much slower than I had any right to be. I should have improved since last Sunday, but instead was much worse. I got into bed like a zombie, and honestly fell asleep as fast as I sank into the mattress.

 

Friday: (Today) Rest day. Three sessions down, and the schedule getting closer to figured out. The great thing about fitness is that it only needs brute endurance. If you keep going, you cannot but get better.

Good luck sisters.