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Week 15: Mum defeats Gareth Monster by determinedly crashing into him for hours

Mile 14:  After an hour crashing into Gareth, Mum is not giving up. 

Sometimes I am very proud of Mum for her Vizsla like traits.  This last week she has shown a number of them.  I think the more tired Mum gets, the more Ginger she is.

Mum was very pleased when week 14 was over because week 14 was very windy.  Mum had assumed new week new weather.  She had also assumed she would not get a cold.  Mum was wrong, Mum got a cold.  She was also wrong about the wind, and in the middle of Tuesday night the Gareth Monster turned up right in our back garden!  I wuffed a lot and told Mum how scary he was but she didn't believe me at all.

On Wednesday evening when Mum went to her club's speed session she realised quite what a beast Gareth was.  He made things very hard work, and Mum was already quite tired.  She said she fought hard and won the first battle, but not the war.  Gareth was far from vanquished.  As Mum now realised how terrible and scary the Gareth monster was I assumed it was fine to do my evening poo in the hall, after all, none of us wanted to go out into his wrath.  I am a very thoughtful Wuffle, at least I think that's what Mum said.

On Thursday morning Mum went to do battle with the Gareth Monster again.  Her plan said run 6 miles at recovery pace.  I didn't really understand this and Mum explained that this is a run so easy that she should actually feel better afterwards than before.  She should loosen up but not use any real energy, and get more "time on her feet".  Mum never seems to sit down anyway so I didn't quite understand that either.  I often try to drag her to the sofa or my blanket only to be told to get off and stop chewing her clothes.  Mum started talking about something called Lactate but Molly cat appeared in the garden so I didn't pay a lot of attention.  Sorry Mum, I love you, but cat! 

Mum went to do her run and came back not long after.  She declared it impossible to recover in 40 mile an hour winds, and admitted defeat.  Gareth had won this one.  Mum was so tired she was rather tearful.  Mum is often tearful at the moment but I have learned this is largely due to the medicine she has to make her tummy feel better.  Mum cries when she's sad, and cries when she's happy, and gets quite cross about it, but says she basically feels a lot better so she's just going to accept the blubbing.  When she cries I lick her face for her, or chew her nose, just something to show her I love her.

Mum decided she needed to rest and regroup, and that she was going to show Gareth in one final battle who was the boss.  Mum wasn't sure yet who that would be, but she was definitely going to show him.  Mum did some sleeping and tried to will her cold away and her legs to work.  She spent a lot of time sat on her large foam stick which I am not allowed to chew.  I was caught having a nibble.  I tried to blame it on a cat but Mum didn't believe me so I had to look sad and use my big eyes.  It really was a very tempting stick, and I would always share my sticks with Mum, so I thought it was fine for me to share hers.  It was not fine.

On Sunday Mum had a 20 mile race.  She spent quite a bit of time worrying about the race, her cold, her tired legs, and the weather forecast.  By Sunday Mum's cold had gone, her legs were tired but working, and she was a little bit excited.  Mum felt like she may actually be up for a race.  When she started running Mum realised she really didn't feel too bad.  Tired, but she's used to running tired, that's what marathon training is about.  Mum trotted happily through the first few miles even when the course went unexpectedly off road and muddy and then a bad thing happened.  Mum had to turn round and run the other way, face first into Gareth, for nine and a half miles.  Mum was determined, Mum was going to do it!  Not only was Mum going to do it, but she was going to do it better than the other people who were also trying to do it.  Gareth was going to be defeated and Mum was going to do it.  I think secretly in Mum's head she was waving a sword and riding a horse.  Mum said she would have quite liked to ride a horse, or even a donkey.

Eventually, after nine and a half miles, Mum had Gareth kicked into shape and she turned round again for the last three Gareth assisted miles.  Mum said she had a very happy moment when she realised that she'd not been overtaken for a long time, quite the opposite, she'd pulled away from the three other girls she'd been running near through the middle part of the race, and she had more left in her legs.  Mum decided to push right on and get things done.  Now Gareth was subdued and on her side, things were looking good.  Then a wonderful thing happened, Mum had spotted a couple of the boys from the running club still going in the other direction before the turn and decided she was going to finish in front of them.  Even better she spotted another one, a little ways in front.  Mum was pretty sure he had a little target symbol on his back.  Quite a ways in front, it looked like a tough ask.  He stopped at a water station to drink, actually stood still, Mum said she decided there and then she could do it and picked the pace up again.  Mum hasn't felt well enough to really race for a long time and she was having fun now.  Boing, boing, boing, through the mud, through the puddles, not far to go, just a few km, boing, boing, boing, don't listen to the legs telling you bad things about how they feel, just keep going.  Very Ginger behaviour.  I wonder, was her ponytail flapping in the wind?  Mum doesn't have flappy ears but her ponytail does flap.  I bet it was.

The finish line was not where Mum expected and the gantry had been taken down due to high wind so Mum didn't even manage a sprint finish, but she was still very pleased with her time of 2:35 plus change.  Despite being pleased Mum said she still cried, because hormones.  These hormones are very funny things.  Mum is trying to compare her performance to where she was two months ago, not where she was this time last year.  All things considered a 13th lady/5th "old bird" finish is fairly respectable for that size of race.  The run was completed with no major stomach issues and only a slight amount of discomfort, and 10 minutes quicker than her last 20 mile race which was riddled with problems.  Mum is confident she's getting fitter again now she can train properly and while her marathon won't be the pace it was last year, she is hopeful of completing it in around 3 hours 30 if she feels good on the day.

Mostly, Mum beat Gareth, and she feels this is important.  More important even than the three other girls she was running with or the boys from the club.  Gareth hurt Mum and scared me, and made me poo in the hall and Mum had to clean it up, so he really needed showing.  He's been shown. 

Mum was absolutely filthy when she got home.  That's the second time in a week that she's gone out to do a road race and come home looking like she's rolled in mud.  I do love Mum when she's muddy.

Mum was pleased to see that when she got up this morning he had gone.  Gareth, defeated. 

Just the usual reminder that Mum is running for the wonderful charity Vizsla Rescue this year, a wonderful charity doing fantastic work to help Gingers in need receive the care they need and ultimately find great homes where they can enjoy a wonderful life full of love, walks, sofas and trainers to chew.  We are very silly, but the charity isn't, so please do support them if you can.  Thank you to those who already have. 

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