This week Mum has started her new training plan. The new plan starts from a much lower mileage - just 33 miles this week - and builds up gradually over the next six weeks. It includes less "junk" miles and, Mum hopes, more good training sessions. Mum says this plan should mean that she gets quicker again, but still gets enough mileage in to build some endurance for marathon running.
Mum said this week was about something called "benchmarking". This sounded right up my street. I have left marks in a number of benches in my short life. Also tables, chairs, and most recently skirting boards. Mum isn't normally into this sort of thing though, I've never even seen her chew so much as a lollipop stick.
It turns out this wasn't quite what Mum meant. Mum has got slow. Mum understands this is relative but she still doesn't like it, and has told me in her "I am absolutely having none of this shit, little pup" tone of voice that she is going to fix it. Mum's new plan involves doing the same set of four runs every week, a tempo run, an interval session, an all out parkrun or a race, and a long run. She will do her strength training and cross training and Mum has also taken up skipping again. This involves swinging around a delicious dangly plastic string with two big chews, one on each end, and then trying to hop over it. I briefly wondered if Mum had gone mental but Mum says that she's always been at her quickest when she was skipping as part of her training. She also said no way are you getting your teeth on this rope, Leeloo, not a chance. I reminded Mum how that went with the training plan and she is now storing her skipping rope in a locker at the gym. I know for a fact from the two legged pups that this is definitely "not fair".
Mum hopes that she can do the tempo run, parkrun and interval session a bit quicker each week, but keep her long runs steady so she's got the energy and strength to do the other stuff well. I have helpfully offered to follow along behind Mum, jumping at her bum and giving it the occasional nip. It works on other runners but Mum said no, oddly.
Mum hopes that she can do the tempo run, parkrun and interval session a bit quicker each week, but keep her long runs steady so she's got the energy and strength to do the other stuff well. I have helpfully offered to follow along behind Mum, jumping at her bum and giving it the occasional nip. It works on other runners but Mum said no, oddly.
Mum's tempo run last week was apparently horrible. This was in large part because Mum sustained a terrible shoulder injury early on New Years Day, putting on her hoodie. I do not quite understand how Mum managed to do this and neither does Mum. One minute her shoulder was fine, a bit of a twist to the side to get her arm through the sleeve I was helpfully holding the end of and suddenly Mum was gritting her teeth and muttering bad words. Mum said she must be getting old. I have looked at the numbers. Mum is very old! I never knew. Mum's shoulder hurt for a lot of the week and she was very grumpy.
Her interval session on the treadmill was also hard work and Mum huffed and puffed and cursed herself for eating too much Christmas pudding. Despite the cursing about the Christmas pudding, Mum did still come home from the shops last week looking very pleased with herself for getting another half a dozen very large Christmas puddings for 1/4 their normal price. Mum declared these would be for a "little treat" after her long runs each week. There's definitely still more of Mum than normal, though, so I'm not sure that's going too well. More Mum is good, yes? More to snuggle, more to chew, more to press my nose into when I want to hide away! Mum always says she loves my squooshy moosh so maybe that's why she's decided to demolish two of them in the last week to give me plenty of Mum tum to push it into. I'm sure that's it, Mum would do anything for me!
Mum slightly missed the time she'd hoped for at parkrun and said her legs were still far more tired than they should be, but was fairly upbeat about it as she got close. She said at least she knows she has run a whole lot faster, so she can run a whole lot faster, she just needs to do it.
Mum's long run was another evening one. Mum has got really fed up of running "boring, traffic filled routes" on her long runs, but because she's running alone at night she feels she has to. This week though Mum decided to stop being a wuss, get her head torch out, and do a nice run out to Derbyshire. Mum knew there was a small section of unlit road, but convinced herself that 2.5 miles out of 14 was not much to manage with a head torch and the residual light from the two cities we live between.
Mum had forgotten she is a town mouse, and that town mice do not like being out in the dark. Mum knew she needed to do this run slowly if she wanted to be up to doing a hard training run two days later, but Mum didn't like the dark. Even with her head torch she didn't like the dark, and apparently Mum suddenly realised that every single bush or tree she went past was bound to be hiding monsters and zombies, and every car that drove past in addition to blinding her with full beam head lights was definitely carrying at least one mass murderer. Mum started to get paranoid that her light was getting dimmer. Then Mum realised her light actually was getting dimmer, the battery was going in her head torch. At this point Mum "properly shat herself" whatever that means, and all pace plans went out the window. She suddenly found her tired legs were more than up to a rather brisk uphill trot of the remaining mile of unlit road, and no care at all for the various squidges and squishes of the horse poo she normally makes at least some effort to go around.
When Mum made it home safe and sound and very cold, and I wagged my tail so hard I thought it would drop off. I was so happy to see her I didn't know whether to lick her face, chew her pony tail, or eat the horse poo off the trainers her hands were too cold to undo. I went for a great combination of all three.
Mum is determined this week she is going to beat all her times for last week, and shift a couple of Christmas pounds.
Mum has provided some helpful technical information full of numbers. Put the numbers in Leeloo, I like numbers, said Mum. I have pointed out they're of no interest to anyone who doesn't run, and not much interest to those who do, but to keep her quiet I'll do it anyway. I asked should we also include the Christmas pound numbers, and Mum's concern for detail weirdly evaporated as she assured me there is really no need.
So, last week's tempo run was 5 miles at 7:28 minute/mile, this week she is targeting 7:20 minute/miles. Last week she did some shockingly bad 90 second treadmill intervals at 6:00 min/mile, this week Mum will attempt to run the same pace, but for two minute intervals. Her parkrun last week was, with the assistance of a friend, 21:13. Next week she is targeting 20:50. These are all runs Mum could have done relatively easily a few months ago so Mum has told herself there really isn't any reason why she can't do them now if she isn't over tired. Her long run this week was 14 miles at 8:30 minute/mile pace, next week she will run 16 miles at that pace or a little slower, whatever feels comfortable, so the following Tuesday she's ready to run hard again.
Just a quick reminder that Mum is running in support of Vizsla Rescue UK who do absolutely fantastic work in helping rehome and care for animals whose families no longer can or wish to. If you do feel able to support her efforts, however little or much, we would both really appreciate it, and please do click the big red button at the top.
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