There once was a guy called Miles. He had great big ears. His family came over and ran The Tea Garden for the season when me and RamJam used to mess around in St Aubin during school summer holidays. He was pretty cool, Miles was, and then one year he came over and we ignored him. I don’t know why. Sad really. That may have been the summer RamJam dropped that tin of paint in the harbour.

Shut up, enough about ignoring Miles because there are some miles that I haven’t been ignoring lately and that’s the distance kind which you run. Those miles. You know what we call those miles in the running community? We call those miles which you run ‘kilometres.’  Yeah, like, since the middle of June I’ve been doing 100km+ a week. In fact last week I did 165 kilometres! The best thing about that is it’s over 100 real miles. 100 real miles is actually a long way whereas 100 kilometres only sounds like it is.

165 kilometres (over 100 miles) was probably as far as I could run in a week. Because it fucking takes ages. Had an easy week this week. I figured I’d do loads of miles and then have an easy week and at the end of the easy week (today) I’d be super fresh.

Monday I did 10k. Tuesday I did 10 x 1k @3:30/km with 90 sec rest in the morning and 10k in the afternoon. That afternoon 10k was hell. A fucking nightmare. I can’t run in the afternoon. My arms go numb and I start sweating. I think it’s something about my metabolism. Wednesday I’ve literally no fucking idea what I did. I definitely went running, though. At least once. Thursday I went to the track with Gilmour and we did 15 x 90 seconds with 90 seconds recoveries. Friday I did 10k with Gilmour but in the afternoon and my arms went numb and I started sweating. James was there on a child’s bike which didn’t help. His inane babble made my head spin and  I thought I was going to die. Saturday I did 10k and I felt super fresh, just as I’d planned after my easy week. This morning there was a 10k race. The Jayson Lee 10k. The weather was fucked. 20mph headwind for the last hilly bit. I tried to keep my cadence high. I did keep my cadence high but probably suffered because of it. When I had the tailwind I should probably have tried to stride it out. Ah well, fuck it, eh?

Although Gilmour has started racing again because Dan Romeril is in Brazil he wasn’t there today. He was away somewhere. He told me where but I wasn’t listening. James was there and James fucking SMASHED it. 33 minute something in that fucking wind! Nuts. That’s a picture of James up there in his blue jumpsuit. What a prick.

I did 36 something. 3 fucking minutes slower nearly. 10% slower! Holy fucking shit. And the worst thing is is that because Gilmour trains with James he’ll claim that time for himself! Gilmour will be telling people he would have run 33 minutes something! Even though he won’t actually race if the win is above 4 mph! Or if Dan Romeril’s there!

Oh yeah, I got a new watch. A Garmin 630. It’s fucking GREAT. It shows you your text messages!


Because I’d only done 82 kilometres after the race this morning, this afternoon I went out and did 18 more. You know, to make it a nice round 100 kilometres. Felt pretty good this afternoon. My arms didn’t go numb and my Vo2 max went up to 65! Boom!


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