Day 64 – The Pizza Effect

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A Well-Earned Rest (and a Lot of Pizza)

Last night, I took the advice of my friend Paul Harris and did something revolutionary: I put my feet up and ate pizza. A full 14-inch pizza, in fact, inhaled at a speed that would make a competitive eater nod approvingly. I can confirm that this was excellent training—though not for running. That said, it seemed to do me some good, as I slept well and woke up feeling refreshed. With Polly’s football not on this morning, I had the rare luxury of a slow start and the freedom to choose an afternoon run.

Anaerobic Adventures and an Unexpected Twinge
Today's session was an anaerobic workout featuring 10 x 40-second efforts at a pace that could best be described as “uncomfortably enthusiastic.” It was certainly faster than my 5k speed, probably closer to a 1-mile effort—otherwise known as “the pace you regret after 200 metres.” Each burst was followed by a three-minute recovery, during which I permitted myself a little walking to get my heart rate down and ensure I could push hard on the next effort.

Everything felt reasonably good until the eighth interval, when my left hamstring decided it wanted to contribute its own thoughts to the session. A brief flare of discomfort gave me pause, so I eased off for that effort and checked in with myself during the following recovery. Nothing lingered, and I suspect it was nothing more than a grumpy muscle protesting my slightly negligent hydration today. The last two efforts went by without issue, but just to be safe, I’ve iced my hamstring—because while bravery is all well and good, being able to run tomorrow is significantly better.

Carbs, Cheese, and the Elixir of Sheffield
With my three-hour long run looming tomorrow, my evening is dedicated to the noble art of carb-loading. Enter my long-run staple: pasta bake, loaded with cheese and an appropriately excessive amount of Sheffield’s finest Henderson’s Relish. It’s a far superior condiment to Lea & Perrins, and I was delighted to rediscover it lurking on the shelves of a supermarket in Sittingbourne. Some might call this preparation excessive. I call it necessary. After all, one does not simply run for three hours on good intentions alone.



Location: Sittingbourne, UK

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