Jolly well done to The Red Bucket, JogBlog, Iliketocount and Running Matters for donning their running shoes over the past couple of days. I failed miserably, which was a shame given the nice new Nike running top and Gore gilet that Father Christmas bought me. Instead I was at home scoffing everything my Mum put in front of me: roast beef, yorkshire puddings, proper roast potatoes in goose fat, one brussel sprout (she makes me eat one every year), Christmas pudding, lemon cheesecake, mince pies, cheese, sausage rolls…then on Boxing Day, prawns, tuna pie, ham, salad, more potatos (mashed and jacket), tiramisu, more Christmas pudding and lemon cheesecake, and several of those round Lindt chocolates in the red wrapper. I don’t think playing Jenga with my cousin’s five year-old really counts as calorie-burning activity.
In my defence, I’m still recovering from a cold and cough, and I did walk a bit – a couple of miles on Chrismas Day afternoon and four or five miles yesterday morning. But nothing that you could call strenuous. Ah well, I’m happy – it’s lovely to spend Christmas with my family and feel relaxed away from work. I’m lucky enough to have another few days off before going back on 2 January. Maybe I’ll get a little run in between now and then…
Happy new year.
I had the novel experience of arriving home at 6:10pm on a school night tonight, and that was via the gym to try to track down my fleece that I left in the spinning studio last Monday. (I was handed the keys to the lost property cupboard where I had to rummage through sweaty trainers, dirty boxer shorts and damp towels to try to locate my brand new top. Obviously it wasn’t there, and has been snaffled by someone who decided they preferred it to their skanky trainers).
Anyway, with the evening stretching out ahead of me, I decided to try something new in the kitchen. While I firmly believe that ready meals are the devil, I do sometimes cut corners on things like curry paste and pesto. Having recently discovered the excellent 50 Great Curries of India by Camellia Panjabi, I know that curry tastes sooooo much better when it’s made from scratch. However, it can be time-consuming to build all the flavours.
Not so for homemade pesto. I consulted my Kenwood food processor cookbook while the pasta was cooking – and chucked it together within a few minutes. At the risk of coming over all Jamie Oliver, the quantities don’t seem to matter too much. So here’s a rough recipe:
Homemade pesto
- Big handful of fresh basil (minus stalks)
- Good slug of olive oil
- Garlic clove (peeled and roughly chopped)
- Handful of pine nuts
- Salt
- Grated parmesan cheese
- A little water
Whizz together the basil, olive oil, garlic, pine nuts and salt. Add the cheese and water and whizz a bit more, until you reach the desired consistency. Stir into cooked pasta and serve with a bit of freshly ground black pepper.
Though I say it myself, it was bloody good. Pretty much as good as the simple but effective sauces that I tasted in Italy earlier this year. So I’m never buying Sacla in a jar ever again. Can’t believe I’ve never done it before. Yum.
I registered for the Reading Half Marathon a little while ago, but haven’t really thought about it much since. And wasn’t intending to for a little while. This time of year, my thoughts turn instead to sausage rolls, mince pies, mulled wine, Christmas cake and Quality Street.
But Jogblog and Iliketocount are already talking about training, which makes me think I ought to too. By all accounts, it’ll be a blogging joggers’ funfest, with Sorelimbs and indeed Sorelimbs’ significant other planning to join the party.
My half marathon PB happened at Reading in 2007 (2:01). It would be good to crack two hours in the same place, but the 2009 race unfortunately falls on TheRedBucket’s birthday and we were fully intending to Go Ape the day before as a birthday treat, then eat curry and drink wine. Well, I was anyway.
So anyway, about the training. My (non-existant) programme has ground to a halt as I’ve finally been stricken down by the bug that’s been sweeping the office for a fortnight. Had a nice little wander around Mapledurham and Whitchurch on Thames this afternoon, but that’s about all the exercise I can manage this weekend. Time for another mulled wine while I wait for the roast beef to finish cooking…
Filed under: 10k, British Military Fitness, Bupa Great Capital Run, Nike Human Race, food, gym, nike+ sportband, running, running gear | Tags: 10k challenge, British Military Fitness, Bupa Great Capital Run, Nike Human, running
I pretty much run at one speed: 10k/6 miles per hour, whether I’m running 5k or a half marathon. I’m a great pacer at that speed and can slow down other people if they set off too fast, or speed them up if they’re lagging. But that’s been my speed for the eight or so years that I’ve been running reasonably regularly, and I’m not exactly progressing. It hasn’t bothered me much in the past, but seeing the likes of my little brother doing a 40-odd minute 10k with apparent ease only months after taking up running makes me think I should push myself a bit more.
Doing British Military Fitness classes is starting to take me out of my comfort zone, making me sprint and do hill reps that I wouldn’t normally bother with. I’m already noticing a bit of difference when running, and am definitely capable of tackling hills with a bit more gusto than previously.
So one of my New Year’s Resolutions is to get my 10k time down during the course of the year. I’m aiming for around the 50-minute mark, but I haven’t got a clue how feasible that is. I’m going to use the gym to gauge my progress, because I can accurately measure the distance. (The Nike+ Sportband really isn’t that accurate. Maybe I should have asked Father Christmas for a GPS thingy).
I do try to get into the habit of writing down my times, but don’t always remember. Here’s a few:
20 July – 57:35 (Bupa Great Capital Run)
31 August – 60:14 (Nike Human Race)
13 September – 60:00 (gym)
30 September – 56:02 (gym)
today – 55:24 (gym)
The times over the past couple of months do indicate I’m going in the right direction, but there is clearly some way to go. This morning’s effort was hard work, especially around the hip flexors/top of my quads – perhaps I can do some work on stretching those out more. I had a long hot shower at the gym but, by the the time I got home, I felt weak and shivery. I don’t feel unwell in any other respect, despite the germs flying around my office, so I guess I just needed some food. I walloped down a power smoothie (banana, Skippy peanut butter, yoghurt, milk) followed by scrambled eggs on toast, and am feeling much better now. 
Filed under: British Military Fitness, food | Tags: British Military Fitness, LSQ2
I didn’t want to go to British Military Fitness last night. I’d gone out to put some fuel in my car at 5.30, and it was pretty damn cold. My boss asked me what I was up to as he left, and when I told him I was off to my class, he looked at me as if I was insane and said: “My god Jo, you’re just like a bloke I met today. He’s planning to row across the Atlantic”. Not really, Chris,” I said, “I’m just going for a jog around the park.” He doesn’t do much in the way of exercise, so I suppose it’s all relative.
Anyway, inspired by the man about to row across the Atlantic, I changed and drove to the park. It was Keiran the Engineer’s last class before he departs for Afghanistan and he armed us all with 10 or 15kg “power packs” and had us marching across the park with them, before making us charge around doing shuttle runs and hill sprints, interspersed with lots of leg squats and lunges – all with the packs on our shoulders.
The temperature must have dropped significantly while we were out, as the ground was dry when we started, got damp during the course of the hour, and was crisp with frost by the time we were doing our stretches. But it was a beautiful evening. The not-quite-full-moon lit up the park, and the stars sparkled. It was marred only slightly by the smell of sewage seeping out of the ground.
Like Phil, I doubt that I managed to offset much of my team Christmas lunch today at LSQ2: crab and prawn timbale with avocado mayonnaise; sea bass Wellington with wasabi lemon butter sauce and crab oil; apple crumble and cinnamon ice cream. Oh and wine. (Managed to turn down a mince pie, but only because of the wafer-thin-mint potential).
So, better get to bed and head to the gym in the morning before I load up more calories at lunch with the girls tomorrow!
Available here.
This is what I looked like when I hit the water. Yes, it was as cold as the look on my face would suggest. The girl next to me must have been possessed of thicker blood.
Filed under: GRIM Challenge, half marathon training, running | Tags: GRIM Challenge, running
“Expect to get very wet,” the race pack said. “-2.0 degrees”, my car said when I got into it on Sunday morning to drive to Aldershot for the GRIM Challenge. Oh good.
Arrived in plenty of time, met my brother and his two mates – one of whom was about seven when I last saw him. He is now about 6′7″. (I didn’t think he looked that amused when I said “oooh, you’ve grown since I last saw you”. Realised that statement made me sound about 45). We ambled unenthusiastically over to the start area, witnessing a passing motorist stop, lean out and chunder all over the path.
The start was delayed by half an hour, so we spent an hour in total hanging around asking ourselves why we weren’t tucked up in bed with a cup of tea. Then decided to get some tea from the fast-food vans to warm up a bit. I seriously considered a hot dog too, but was distracted by some hippies playing drums on tin bins, like something out of Stomp. That was very entertaining.
All of a sudden, we were off. Dan, Olly and Lawrence jogged off looking all fit, while me and P bobbed along at the back, trying to work out why three blokes were dressed as a bride and bridesmaids, and another team were wearing bermuda shorts and armbands and carrying inflatables.
It was a jolly affair, and we had a lot of laughs around the muddy, wet course. We decided against ploughing through the first few puddles, on the basis that there was nothing to be gained from getting too wet too early on and concentrated on trying to find a rhythm – a bit tricky when the pack kept bunching up around the puddles. After four miles, some camouflage netting and a pee stop among some Christmas trees, we were rewarded with a bottle of water ice at the half-way point. After that, there was no tip-toeing around the water: it was time to wade in. And f*ck, was it cold – even if it only came up to your knees. A very odd sensation to be quite hot underneath all the layers of clothing, but have feet so cold you couldn’t feel them. The mud bog was a relief, with its comparative warmth. Miles five to seven were fairly uneventful – felt a bit weak for part of that – then recovered enough to attack a few gentle hills, before jogging round the start area to wade through another generously proportioned puddle to the finish line.
Billed as an eight-mile race, a running acquaintance registered 8.7 miles on his GPS watch. The distance and time didn’t really matter that much to be honest – but, for the record, I came in at 1:36:30.
All in all, a surprisingly enjoyable race – great atmosphere, reasonably well organised with a hot dog at the end. Glad I got out of bed after all.
Filed under: British Military Fitness, bleep test, circuits, running | Tags: bleep test, British Military Fitness, running
Already aching from yesterday’s DIY circuits session, it was with a degree of reluctance that I struggled into my tights, thermal top, windproof jacket, gloves and hat for tonight’s British Military Fitness class. I don’t know what had got into the instructors, but they were really mean.
Very quick warm-up, then straight into hill reps on a steep grassy slope about 30m long (my estimate; could be way out). At the top, we had to do press-ups facing back down the slope, sit-ups facing up the slope, and so on. Basically all designed to cause maximum pain. God knows how many reps we did, but I was seriously starting to flag, when we finally stopped for a quick water break. Ooooh, I thought, half-way – the second half always goes a bit quicker.
That thought was shortlived. Instructor #2 took over, and announced we were going to do the bleep test. BOO.
He’d sneaked out his iPod and a set of speakers in his rucksack and set up little lights to mark out the distance on one of the football pitches. And off we went. It’s fairly easy for the first few levels, then it gets really sodding difficult. Particularly when you’ve done umpteen hill reps, squats and lunges; you’re carrying several kilos more than usual in mud on the ends of your feet; and running on uneven ground. In the dark.
I got to about level 5.6. Pathetic. Particularly because I know I got to 8.7 about eighteen months ago. That was in a gym, with clean trainers. And I hadn’t done a gazillion hill reps first. And it was warm. But still. Three whole levels below where I was and I thought my lungs were going to explode…
Well done to number 19, who almost made it to level 12. He had longer legs than me though. By some considerable margin.
