Author: Seeph

Purple October

So here we are, approaching the end of 2018 and as I get stuck into my final challenge of the year I thought first it would be good to reflect back on a little spell a couple of months ago which I’ve not had the time to really get round to writing up properly yet, including the third running of one of my favourite events at the Manchester Half Marathon.

This year’s was extra special, not just for how it all panned out from a personal point of view, but because for the first time since its inauguration in 2016 I was running with people I knew, two of them making their half marathon debuts.

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Smashing the Standalone curse

I hadn’t planned on writing this one up as full post. This year’s Standalone 10k was just meant to be a footnote to the bigger picture, a practice run for the main event at the Manchester Half Marathon.

The 2018 edition will go down in history though as one of my best ever days at the office as I somehow ran the 10k of my life.

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Meeting Across The River

Carrying an ankle injury, I honestly had no idea what to expect from the Wirral Half Marathon. I’ve never gone into a race before not knowing if I’d even be able to run a few yards let alone get to the finish. Maybe I’d run down to the three mile mark and get a bus or taxi back to the finish line. Maybe I’d branch off and do the shorter 10k. Maybe, just maybe, I might even be able to complete the whole thing and run further than I had for nearly six months.

What I never in a million years expected to happen was exactly what did end up happening.

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Bump and grind

It’s been a while since I last trained for a race as generally I’ve found that for the last few events heading out for a weekend long run alongside a couple of shorter quicker ones midweek has been just dandy in terms of getting me round.

No, I mean really training. And with that comes a whole heap of problems

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Springtime / Summertime

What a funny old year eh. The coldest winter I’ve literally ever run through seemed to turn, almost instantly, into the hottest summer of all time, or at least that’s how it’s felt. There was no spring. No gradual increase allowing us to begin to acclimatise to it. I got to the start of April still running in hat, thick gloves and baselayer. Since then, give or take the odd couple of days or so, it’s been pretty much 25 degrees plus, day after day after day. And I’ve decided to keep on running right through the middle of it.

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