1. I only reached 8k. I am mildly disappointed, to say the least. That’s as far as I got before Coach Roel finally decided to let me live another day. By the 7th kilometer, I was already feeling pain in parts of my body I didn’t even know existed. For the first time, FIRST time, my mind and body were in sync and they were telling me to stop. I wanted to run a full 10k but Coach Roel, prudently and wisely, decided it might not be such a good idea. By the time we were rounding up that steep uphill climb back to ULTRA, he was practically dragging my ass.
2. Speaking of ass, my ass is apparently getting bigger. Where oh where is the justice in that? True, I still stuff my face with Tostitos (the one with a hint of lime) but I have also been pulling 5ks at least thrice a week. Not only did I gain weight, but all that weight has so conveniently settled on my butt. It’s only been four days since I last saw Coach and already he noticed my weight gain. And this over the Holy Week, when people were supposed to be fasting and shedding pounds faster than you can say Amen!
3. Just four days of no running and Coach and I both notice the difference it made in my running. He told me I should’ve jogged for at least 30 minutes, twice. I WAS about to protest and say there aren’t any jogging places in where we’d stayed during the Holy Week break but I knew he was right. I hereby resolve not to miss any more training days. Unless it’s a) an emergency or b) Bono and U2 come to town.
The next training, Coach won’t be as forgiving. And neither will I.
