Don’t get the wrong idea. This is not a training blog. You’ll be spared details on heart-rates, lactic acid and vaseline.
Instead it is an experiment. There is an argument that if you make public declarations about an intended goal (eg to write a book, lose 5 kilos or set up a business) then you are more likely to reach that goal. Why? As your mind doesn’t want the discomfort of failing in public.
So my goal for this trip is to go running or biking everyday. Even if it is for a mile or two. There is a famous chap called Ron Hill who ran every day for 52 years and 39 days. He also set up a terrific clothing business.
I’ll post them in Weeks and the first one will be done on 25th May when we launch.
P.S. That photo is not me. Or the wife.
Day 0 Run: Blowingstone Hill to White Horse, Uffington, UK, along the Ridgeway
I have no idea how to get my data from Strava or map my run onto this blog, but suffice to say this was a pre-launch run to kick things off along the muddy chalk of the Ridgeway in Oxfordshire, UK. Park in the layby at the top of Blowingstone Hill just 10 mins west of Wantage, run for ~1.5 miles to get to the White Horse and then you can see north across Oxfordshire. A famous (and rare) view.
Day 1 run: Porto de Galinhas beach
20 mins with L-Zo.
Scraping ourselves off the bed and riddled with jetlag we jog up the beach for about 10 minutes then turn around. It is bliss, movement after hours of sitting with the company of a child. Birds hover 10 foot above us surfing the strong onshore wind that is collapsing the waves. Drizzle arrives and we fail to complain.
Day 2 run: same as Day 1 but 20 mins out 20 mins back.
At 6.30am. Alone. All wonderful then disaster strikes. Yesterday and today we did barefoot and this may be the first time for me. I’ve run all over the world but have always been quite sceptical about going without trainers. But here I became excited, I see relaxed local dudes running in just shorts and I join in. The feet start to hurt today and I inspect them but see nothing. Strange. I’m on normal sand with only surfers around me and two miles from the hotel so I keep running back. Dumb move.
On return I see this:
The land has spoken. This is a warning from the Americas not to get too confident. One little 4 mile run and my feet are covered in blisters, revealing and mocking the soft sedentary office existence of the last 20 years.
So bang goes the running every day plan. 😖 My disgusting yet much-loved feet need to heal.