According to my training planner, this morning I’m supposed to do a practice 10k or half marathon run. Considering the Yorkshire Half Marathon route goes pretty much past my flat I really don’t have an excuse not to follow it, or at least half, the difficult half though. As you may know, Sheffield is famous for its hills so any 10k or half marathon route is guaranteed an elevation. The route I’m taking is out of my flat then from Hunters Bar roundabout up Ecclesall Road South, up Ringinglow Road, out to Norfolk Arms then back taking a detour up Psalter Lane, which includes a 215m elevation (http://www.mapmyrun.com/workout/1361792553)
It’s 2c, I’ve got a busy day lined up, the jacket is on, the new playlist is… playing. Out.
Perfect. I get to see all the Parkrunners happily jog to the park while I slog it up a never ending hill.
Ecclesall Road South is steep.
Oh God, Ringinglow Road is ridiculous.
One slim, bald runner has run onto my route.
*10 minutes later* I have no idea where he’s gone.
Training must be going alright, feel like I can run uphill for miles and miles. Or maybe that’s the homemade lentil dahl I had twice yesterday.
THAT’S IT, THE ROAD IS FLAT, WE HAVE REACHED THE PLATEAU.
Now, where are those llamas? They’re covered in fur, they wouldn’t be THAT cold.
Looks like a fair few are following the same training plan, I’ll give an appreciative nod to each one as our paths cross.
Really need to invest in a lightweight jacket. And lightweight shorts.
Like an oasis in the distance, there’s Norfolk Arms.
My brain is saying we’re halfway done. My legs are giving the go-ahead to push on.
At the halfway point my stopwatch reads 32:33, no time for a breather.
Woof. I’m flying down this hill. Apologies to everyone else for making them feel even more knackered.
If anyone wants to see me angry watch me running downhill while listening to Ill Manors by Plan B (Watch it burn. Oiiiiiiiiiiii) or Club Foot by Kasabian (Boosh)
One day a pedestrian will thank me for running out of their way. Not today though.
Now I get to see all the Parkrunners leisurely stroll home. That’s right, you enjoy your bacon sandwich. Bastards.
One final hill. Done. 58:57. That’s a tidy five minutes knocked off my route PB. Buzzing.