Send in the Clowns - BAC 10K Challenge

So the last few days have not gone to plan, which is a little frustrating, given that it's week two. Thankfully I've build a little redundancy into my schedule and I still think I'm at a decent level aerobically..

Friday: was due to run 6 miles, but another late night followed by an 8am start, delivering two hours of presentations, relocating to another city to meet my wife, and re-grouping with work colleagues for dinner and drinks just made it just too impractical to go for a run. I really tried, and got as far as trying to fix the hotel treadmill (fail) in an act of opportunism (trying to squeeze in a sneaky 5k). The 'me of old' would never have settled, and would have found a way (and to be honest, I still tussle really hard with the catholic-like guilt of missing out on a run but there it is.

Saturday: 8 miles easy. Made up for Friday a little with an 8 mile easy run around Utrecht. plan was 6 miles, but I got wonderfully lost amid the canals and windmills. Sunday called for an 8 mile run, so I was happy to swap things around. Quite stop-start, as I had to check phone repeatedly, as my normal homing pigeon instincts were disabled, as was the mapping on my GPS watch. Utrecht is an amazing place for runners once you get away from the city centre, where you gotta monitor 360' for cyclists, but once outside the city, beautiful canals, and great parks and amenities.

Sunday: 11km easy - planned return home in the late afternoon, so got our for a very damp 11kms, on a slightly better planned route around the canals. Humidity is insane and every run ends up being a sweat box. Glad I was heading home as I need some fresh running gear! Or so I thought... Got a text from Aer Lingus to say my flight had been canceled, and I got rebooked on a 9pm flight. No big deal, until my wife got a text to say that she was rebooked for a flight on Monday. Spent the next few hours trying to figure out options that would allow us to travel together and so my wife wouldn't have to stay in the city on her own. Well, Aer Lingus sorted that one out. They cancelled my 9pm flight and rebooked me on a flight back on Tuesday. Frustrating, but to be honest, there are worse places to be stuck in the world, and far worse situations to be stuck in.

Monday: Worked a full day from the relocated hotel and saw my wife off for her flight. Starting to feel a bit chesty (and a few members of our work travelling party had started to report positive covid tests), so bought some kits and thankfully tested negative, so headed out after work for an easy 6 miles, that turned into an easy 8 miles. One of the longest flattest uninterrupted tarmac straights I've ever run on, along one of the canals on something called Rooseveltboulevard-Sud. If the wind was going the right way, there'd be 3k PBs a-plenty. Saw some amazing spots to hang out, if I ever make it back to Utrecht.

Tuesday: chestier still, but still testing negative, rose at 4am, to make a flight home. Too tired to run and was happy to compromise. Was supposed to do a session, but when you know, you know.

Wednesday: Still chestier, but now with a positive C-19 test, no running for a stretch. Have managed to avoid the plague for a couple of years, but my turn has come. Hoping the fitness levels will see an easy and smooth recovery. I have a treadmill in the house now, so we'll see how I'm fixed after the weekend, but for now, it's time to rest up.

Ha! Didn't even think of Valencia. In any case, this marathon is all about the joy and love I have for marathon running, so it really doesn't matter too much where the marathon takes place, and Porto (as a holiday destination) has been on the list for a while. It sure would've been nice to catch up with the cool old dudes for some pints afterwards though!

My last proper marathon attempt (excluding the 3:01 in a clown suit in Dublin), was Berlin 2019, where I dropped out of a race for the first and only time, at the 21km mark. That one hit me really, really hard. Looking back (for the first time) at my training (I'm confined to bed so feeling a little reflective), it really should have come as no surprise as my body wasn't good and my training was terrible. I was doing some really stupid sh1t and still expecting I could trot around for a comfortable sub 2:40. That's what pride and arrogance gets you. I was absolutely crushed afterwards and to be honest, a little bit has stayed with me since. So now I'm rebuilding from both a physical and psychological perspective. I need to re-learn how to love racing, just as much as training. I got a little taste of it at the recent staff relay race in the Phoenix Park. So from more humble beginnings, we start to rebuild.