Had a great run last night, without really meaning to.
Seems like a week off the training actually did me some good as I ran the furthest I've run for years last night.
And thanks to the thumping tunes and euphoric trance on the iPod it was as if I was transported to a new spiritual plane.
I took on one of my favourite routes for the first time in ages, which involved going across the Downs, through Coombe Dingle (which I always think sounds like a lovely village in a kids' TV show), skirting round the edge of Shirehampton, then dropping down to the Portway and back to Bridge Valley Road. For a better idea, here is the route.
Bridge Valley Road is a really steep hill, I mean really steep, which runs down from Clifton on to the Portway. Normally when I get to the foot of it I end my run and decide to walk up the hill back home.
I have always told myself that it was best to walk up the hill rather than try to run because it acts as a good warm down. Obviously I've never had energy to attempt it.
But last night, with the wind at my back, I managed to run, in the loosest sense of the definition, all the way up it. It was all I could do to ensure my feet were off the ground long enough to call it a run.
I didn't stop there though, I managed to plod all the way up the sharp little hill that takes you back up to the Downs and finished by running back to the start at the water tower.
I couldn't believe it. The distance was 6.7 miles, which is about 10.7 km. But my sense of achievement and bursting pride was slightly tempered by the fact that it took me 1hr 32mins, which is only 4 minutes quicker than the 10k I did back in May which I walked a lot of.
Still, I was very pleased to be able to run for an hour and a half non-stop, even if I'm looking at six hours plus for the marathon next year.
But conquering Bridge Valley Road and the Downs in that way was really amazing.
I remember years ago when I first used to do that run with Marc that we'd talk about maybe being able to run up it if we ever got fit enough. Marc managed to run up it, but I never did attempt it. I'd always seen it as the kind of thing you see at the end of a movie, like Rocky, where this final challenge has evaded our hero all the way through the movie. Maybe he has tried to race somebody up it and fell over and broke his back or something.
Then one day, away from the crowds, he has another go and just keeps on going, finding his strength from who knows where, but with every step his goal gets closer and he finally makes it to the top where turns around and looks over the city and jumps in the air with delight.
I don't mean to go on about it but I never thought I would be able to do it.
I had been listening to a Ministry of Sound mix all the way round which was fairly uplifting in itself, but it definitely helped when I got halfway up the hill and was flagging badly. Insomnia by Faithless came on. I was instantly transported back to the early to mid 1990s and started running to the beat just to keep my feet moving and I'm sure I resembled what dad dancing at a rave would look like.
But it was just what I needed to keep going.
I hadn't intended to run the hill, I just felt like I'd give it a go, and kept telling myself I could stop at the next junction, but it got to such a point that I felt I should really keep going just to complete the challenge.
So when I managed with very small plodding steps to get back up to the Downs, I was back on the flat and the sun was shining.
I had timed the run perfectly as it had been raining all day but the sun came out in the evening.
It was just starting its descent by the time I got back up to the Downs and the most amazing trancey euphoric track came on. With the pain of the hills behind me, running on the flat with this great tune and the beautiful sun shining over the best views in Bristol, I couldn't help feeling a little emotional.
It was like being on a beach in Ibiza after a long weekend having lots of fun.
I staggered back to my car and the Downs was full as usual with lots of lithe young people involved in various sporting activities. They probably clocked me as some unfit bloke who was struggling to walk back from the burger van which sits temptingly at one end of the Downs.
I had a weird idea about inventing some kind of electronic mileometer that I could wear on my back to show everybody that I had in fact run nearly seven miles, doncha know, and so win their respect, which I wasn't really bothered about anyway.
Had to spend a good few minutes drinking water and stretching while trying to get my heart rate down from the clouds.
I think the new heart valve I had inserted a couple of years ago is what gave me the extra energy I needed to complete that run, I reckon I have much better capacity for excercise now. A bit like putting a Formula 1 engine in my old Citroen. Almost.
I made it home, had a most welcome Radox bath and treated myself to low-fat sausages and mash. I certainly slept well last night, and not feeling too bad today for it either, but I'm definitely going to let myself recover before attempting that again this week.
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