With only 4 weeks 5 days til the Blackpool half I’m now officially in panic mode. Luckily, I’,m in Center Parcs this week with my family and my bro is a runner and has promised to drag me out every day. The perimeter is a lovely wooded 5 mile trail which I ran a few times last year as part of my marathon training. So far so good right?
We arrived yesterday, and decided to have a few games of beer pong to get in the holiday mode. For those that haven’t played it, you get a 6 ft long table, put 10 plastic beer cups at each end, with beer in, and the aim is to get a ping pong ball in the opponents cup, which they then have to drink. if you eliminate all of your opponents beer cups, they have to drink what’s left of yours too. I was undefeated for 3 games, then in the 4th all the beer caught up with me and I was rubbish. I finally crawled to bed at midnight, promising my brother that yes I’ll definitely be up for an 8am run.
8am came, my mouth felt like the proverbial nuns bits, and I felt slightly nauseous. Wanting to set a good example for my 17 month old nephew, and not wanting to be beaten by my little brother, I dragged on my kit and we set off with him and I running and his wife on the bike with little dude on the back.
Mile 1 was good – nice steady 11m20 pace. Then it all went a bit Pete Tong. At the end of mile 2 I was doubled over retching, by mile 3 I was tutting and huffing and puffing and mile 4 I spent the whole time telling my ludicrously upbeat bouncy not-at-all-worn -out brother, who by this time was singing Eye of the tiger to me whilst running in front of me BACKWARDS (bloody show off), to shut up. What I really wanted to do was punch him and tell him to f off.
But, 4 miles were run, with not very much walking, and I’m now eating a guilt-free bacon sarnie. Tomorrow we’re aiming for 5 miles – I’m not sure my brother will survive…