First things first. How gorgeous are the photos accompanying this article? They're all under Creative Commons from Flickr user slimmer_jimmer, who is not a resident of Brighton, but having seen this sunrise now wishes he was! Beautiful, fantastic work, so check out more if you like what you see on his Flickr page here.
Now back to me. I've been out three times this week, all early morning. Tuesday and Thursday were way too early to see any hint of sunrise, but today's slightly later start gave me a nice view of the sun climbing over a flat-with-ripples, sparkling sea into a clear blue sky.
I have to say, the change in the weather from a couple of weeks back has been really dramatic. I'm pleased to see I'm not alone in really struggling to bother in the wet, windy conditions we had back then. Not only on this blog, but elsewhere in the interwebosphere (on Twitter, for example), my fellow Brighton runners have been making their feelings known! This week could not have been more different.
So, Tuesday and Thursday, to get the runs done before work, I was up at 6. A quick warm up with a cup of coffee and out the door by 6.30, when it was still pitch black, but clear and cold and windless (very important) on both days. Tuesday's session was a high-intensity 25-minute run, during which I attempted to complete what used to be my 30-minute circuit of Portslade. I fell slightly short, covering 3.12 miles.
In contrast, Thursday's was an 'easy' run of 45 minutes. This meant I reached the seafront in Hove before turning round to head home and even down by the sea, the breeze was light and refreshing instead of gusty and horrible, it was peaceful and a very lovely place to be all by myself. I covered an acceptable 4.6 miles. These early morning runs are just the perfect start to the day, a great way to wake up. They're also teaching me the value of sufficient nutrition - eat and drink properly, or by 2pm you can be pretty much comatose!
Now. Today's session was 45 minutes again. But this time, it was a Fartlek. I take deep satisfaction from knowing that if I wanted to *@! my way through that word it would sum up perfectly my feelings about these runs. I drove (I know, I know) to Hove lagoon for the session - I cannot sprint on anything other than level ground and anyway, it's so obviously the place to be on a beautiful winter's morning.
The run had to include 8 x 1-minute sprints ('level 4'), and finish with 10 minutes of high intensity ('level 3') running. So I did 3 minutes of jogging, followed by the 1-minute sprinty bit, 8 times. I then recovered for 3 minutes after the final sprint and then did the 10 minutes of higher-paced business.
The first 3 reps were not too bad, the 4th and fifth were a horrible suckfest, the 6th (the last before I turned round) not too bad. The 7th was again tolerable. And then, right, this teeny, tiny, minute, minuscule, petite little lady with a blond ponytail in a pink top and black lycra tights that didn't look like they were full of custard and yellow soles on her trainers came steaming past me. On the 8th and final sprint, I managed to maintain the distance between us (i.e. my sprinting was as fast as her normal running pace). And then, when I finished the sprint and started frightening people by looking and sounding like I was going to be sick, she just kept on going. And going. And going.
Now, I accept that fitness is all relative. The lady in question has probably been exercising regularly for many, many years. I, on the other hand have only recently left the couch. But I thought I was quite fit. And if that lady is, in fact, fit, that means there must be another word for what I am. (Suggestions on a postcard to There's No Need To Be So Rude, Bitchy Vile Street or via e-mail to idon'tbelievethatwasreallycalledfor@thickskinned.com. Or, you know, just comment on this post.)
Anyway, the sun came up while I was out, it was all sparkly sea-wise and generally lovely and I covered 4.65 miles. 14 miles tomorrow - I hope these conditions stay with us until I'm finished with that!
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