I tried to train for a marathon last year and broke myself within about six weeks of training for it. My body just wasn't coping with the longer distances, in fact I was increasingly injured and in the end had to spend some time sorting out both the problems and (I hope) the causes.
I also hated the training. Long hot sweaty runs, in the evenings, on my own. One in particular stands out. It's still the farthest I've ever run. 16 miles with pain in my ankle which I think I knew I shouldn't really have been running on in nearly 30 degree heat, and it was vile. I hated every rotten step of it. I've gone for a spring marathon for attempt number two, so it'll be long freezing soggy runs, in the evenings, on my own. Some variety at least.
This time round I'm rather up for it, at least at the planning stage. I have a plan. It's flexible depending on how my body holds up to the stresses of it and I'm accepting I may need to swap out some of the running I would like to do for cross training, but I have a plan. The plan is 18 weeks long and it starts next week, three weeks before Christmas. This interferes with my general wish to spend Christmas drunk and slowly turning to cheese and enjoying just the odd social run. The first few weeks of the plan aren't really looking too arduous to me right now from the warm comfort of my computer chair. It's only slightly more mileage than I currently do, just a little more focussed on a single longer term goal. In the New Year that's going to change, but that's weeks away through a pleasant haze of mulled wine and mince pies, so I'm ignoring that bit for now.
Here goes!
Here goes!
