I was all calm and poised up until this week - if by poised you mean gracefully placing slices of cheese into my mouth on the sofa. We've had some freak weather in South Wales this week. It was nice out! Holy shit! I went out for a flat(ish) slow(..ish) 9 miler with Run 4 All on Wednesday, all up for a happy trot along a green, fuzzy-looking canal (the romantic waterways of Neath). I was fine for about 6 miles, spurting sweat from my eyeballs and plinketty-plonking along with the group, until we reached the top of an "incline" (it was a hill, goddammit!) where my eyes decided to give me a spotty green light show, and I had trouble for a couple of minutes getting a full breath into my lungs (ed: what, Becky, as opposed to your arse?!).
Freaked out as I was, I continued - my little disco-spots panic attack didn't last long, and I'd been slurping away at my bottle of water all the way round, so I decided I can't have been dehydrated. I had to walk-jog the remaining 3 miles, just in case my body decided "nope, am done! See ya, cruel world!"
I'm happy to report, I didn't die. If I had, then typing this post would be pretty impressive, no?
And to end this exciting story, I finished my evening by staggering like a drunk around Tesco because I had an sudden urgent need for strawberries, drove home and promptly threw up said punnet of strawberries. I felt too rough to be amused by the fact that my... err... projections... were luminous pink. Like Angel Delight. Lush.
Long story short, I think I have some lessons to learn re: running in the heat. I've not been handling it too well. In the run(jog/walk/gasp/puke) up to Tenby, according to my reliable cross section of Run 4 All members, I will need to:
- Wear a hat
- Eat more before a long run (am not sure how I can add "more" to my current diet of all-the-food-ever, but I'll give it a bash)
- Drink lots more water in general, not just when you're out running
- Don't expect personal bests in heat. Slow the fuck down.
Praying to Beyonce that these things get me round the course on the day. Hopefully I'll acclimatise to the heat before then too. Saying that, I do live in Wales, so July is just as likely to bring blizzards, sideways rain, falling sheep and gale force winds as it is to give us sunshine. Who knows what I need to prepare for?
In other Becky-Secretly-Wants-to-Be-Superwoman news, I had a crack at that CrossFit malarkey I've heard so much about, thinking that I'd like to be able to open pickle jars with minimal effort on top of my running. Perhaps at the same time. I fancied mixing it up a bit and trying to get fitter overall, with a view to it improving my running and general well being.
Turns out CrossFit is sort of like circuits but tougher. Lots tougher! What A and I were put through this morning was a fraction of what we saw the regulars do, and by the end, I was grinning through a fringe of sweat and quite possibly tears (both salty, couldn't tell). I LOVED it! I was in awe of the women who were there, and I want what they've got - lovely knotty arms and the ability to pick up big ass weights despite being barely over 5ft tall. I want to be strong like an ox! Albeit an ox with a weakness for Maoams and TV box sets.
Seems expensive though, so going to have to do a bit of research and shop around for the best deal, but I see a fun and painful new hobby on the horizon. Bring it on!
The only things these guns have been lifting of late is cans of cider. Classy bird.