Spikey Day

Don't say that I don't respond to comments! One of our fellow blippers asked to see my new spikes so here they are, artfully shot too. They are for the forthcoming cross-country season.

I'm was up early, having decided that I wanted to attempt a Parkrun PB (albeit one for the last decade) and the one at Platt Field offered the best chance locally. The target was to go under 20.30 and I thought it was more than achievable as I'd done 20.12 in an Aquathlon.

The train was at an awkward time....I could get a later one but timings would be tight so I was out the house just after 7am. It was a lovely morning, even arriving in Central Manchester. I could have got the bus to Platt Field but decided to walk the 6km instead.The city was quiet, although I did see a number of people doing the 'walk of shame' looking slightly less attractive than they would have 12 hours before. Chinese students seemed to be out in force too, many looking overly fashionable for that time of the morning. Rusholme and the curry mile was almost dead too....I thought that place never slept!

I got to the park with plenty time to spare. It had been a while since breakfast so a rhubarb n custard energy gel was in order, washed down with eau. It was a Parkrun, officially not a race, but there appeared to be lots of serious looking people there. One less serious lady, spoke.... "Is the jogging here?"she asked. We had a brief chat but I started to get quite worried when she laughed outrageously at everything I said. What's worse was she sounded like Melanie outta neighbours! Remember her? Get me outta here!

I had planned a warm-up last night whilst sitting on the train. "Wonder what Barry is doing with Mo?" I thought. Dr Fudge and I had spent many car journeys discussing such things....and we generally reached consensus. I decided on 10 mins progressive, followed by 3x2 min at upper threshold, then 3x15sec @ race pace.....5 min recovery and then BOOM!

They had pace makers and I decided to follow the 20min man! Well that was until he blasted off at 3min 20sec km pace for the 1st 500m. No way Jose! Even worse, there were no markers at the km points so I was running blind. With this being South Manchester, a diverse community, I was lucky enough to find myself on the heels of a man who looked like an East African. Nice pace! Melanie the ran past! What? I knew by the half way point that my legs weren't feeling amazing but as I've lost 3kg recently, I still believed I could get a season's best. I didn't know the course but sensed I was getting near the end. the East African kicked and I tried to go with him. Gahhh...legs didn't respond. I crossed the line in 21min dead! "F**k"!!

Quite a few people were collapsing in hyper-ventilatory heeps around me, but I trotted on a wee bit, cursing! I had missed the world record by over 8 minutes and was upset. I had ran hard but it wasn't hard enough. Maybe wearing my Jamaican Olympic t-shirt had been a curse....most people from there are of West African descent and maybe there had been some momentary muscle morphological miracle in which they had changed to II B's for the duration! In a later discussion with Rosemary, she suggested I need a coach!

I slept when I got home and then headed into Glossop for my shopping.Vast amounts of fruit and veg were purchased. Even though I'm average, my diet has been very athletic in the last month. Treats were therefore in order! Yum....the deli had little cheese and onion pies, traditional ones with a ponsey twist, Japanese panko breadcrumbs! It worked. I also got a perfect tarte au citron. It had barely set light custard, a very strong lemon kick and perfect pastry....it couldn't have been improved upon. Hah...listen to the chav fi Shhtoneybank!