Day 56 – The Dreaded Double Threshold Run

The Run That Shall Not Be Named

As I mentioned at the end of yesterday’s post, today’s run filled me with nothing short of dread. The infamous double threshold run loomed ahead, and, quite frankly, I wasn’t ready to face it. Threshold runs are already my least favourite—if running sessions were a royal court, the threshold run would be the one lurking in the shadows, grinning with far too many teeth. And yet, my ever-faithful Garmin, in its infinite wisdom, informed me this morning that today’s plan involved not one, but two of these efforts.

I simply wasn’t in the mental space to accept this reality. So, I engaged in a well-practised coping mechanism: denial. I ignored it, carried on with my morning, and enjoyed a lovely lunch with Kelly and Emilia. We laughed, we ate and for a blissful while, I pretended my running shoes didn’t exist. But, as with all inevitabilities, I had to face my fate eventually.

Into the Fire (Twice!)

Knowing that a flat route would give me the best chance of completing two quality efforts, I set off along the A2 towards Teynham. The warm-up felt like a stay of execution, but soon enough, the dreaded countdown began, and my watch launched me into my first 16-minute hard effort, heart rate surging to around 165bpm.

The short hill near Teynham made my legs protest, and by the time I reached the far side of the village, my lungs had joined the rebellion. My breathing was ragged and I had to focus on keeping my form steady, ensuring my arms were working efficiently and not flailing about like a windmill caught in a storm. Relief finally came in the form of a five-minute recovery, during which I walked, let my heart rate drop and entertained fleeting thoughts of simply calling it a day. My body was screaming at me, but my mind was the real battleground—I knew the second effort was going to be tougher and the anticipation alone was exhausting.

But before I could truly enjoy the illusion of respite, the second countdown began. Another 16-minute push. The moment it started, my legs felt heavy, as if someone had swapped them out for concrete. My lungs, now thoroughly unimpressed with my life choices, were working overtime. Every fibre of my being wanted to slow down, just a little, just enough to make it comfortable. But comfort wasn’t on the menu today. I pushed on, determined to see it through, focusing on small landmarks ahead—just to the next lamppost, then the next tree, then the next road sign. It became a game of mental trickery, convincing myself I only had to keep going for a few more seconds at a time.

Mental Fortitude and the Home Stretch

As I emerged from Bapchild on the return journey, I knew I had done it. The sheer relief was immense, and the steady 10-minute cool-down felt like a victory lap. My legs were tired, but I could tell that I was getting stronger. Just a few weeks ago, a session like this would have destroyed me, leaving me feeling utterly defeated. Today, while still incredibly tough, it felt manageable.

Reflecting on it now, this session was a true test of fitness, and, surprisingly, I didn’t find it as hard as I had anticipated. The weeks of training are paying off, even if my legs strongly disagree. How this will translate to 26.2 miles remains to be seen, but for now, I’m just relieved to have survived the double threshold run. The thought of doing this again is not one I’m eager to entertain, but for now, I’ll take this small victory.

Until next time, when my Garmin no doubt finds another creative way to test my resolve!