Diary of what followed after I finally succeeded in completing a marathon just in time, before my 50th birthday.

Thursday 7 August 2008

NOT BAD, NOT BAD AT ALL

Halfway into my second week of my twelve-weeks intensive marathon training, things are going pretty well. Last week saw one hick-up: on Thursday my legs would not move at all and the 90 minutes I was supposed to run shrank into a 24-minutes warming-up. But then, I'd just began a course of anti-inflammatory medicine (suspected bursitis in my left shoulder, a bit painful if I run more than an hour). So maybe that explained my yoghurt-filled legs.

I'm doing a total of over 50 kilometers weekly. The big challenge is to find enough variation in terms of where I run. The 11k loop that I've been doing for a while has become so familiar that I expect to be surprised if I find a specific branch from a specific tree has snatched off. There's also the area towards the airport - which accidentally leads me to a village with the gorgeous name of Erps-Kwerps - which is much flatter than if I head the other way and therefore more suitable for longer distances. But that gets boring after a while, too.

Apart from seeking variation, there are three main challnges:
1. Finding time: I am already resorting to getting up at 5:30 (AM, yes) once a week. Football practice has fallen by the roadside completely.
2. Staying motivated: As the demands of the training schedule go up, I will at times have difficulty getting up too, abandoning a comfy seat, putting on them shoes. The coming three weeks should be fine, with the Olympics on telly. Because sports is a bit like yawning: if you see someone do it you start feeling the urge, too. (Well... I do.)
3. Not overtrain: I am, after all, at an age at which in other cultures I would be a respected village elder and have a broad selection of grandchildren. True, in my mind's eye I'm still in my late twenties. But equally true, my body has different ideas. So if I push it too much I may well find myself untrainable for a week or so.