Headed out to the park on monday lunchtime. Imagine the scene, beautiful sunshine, and a park with Buckingham Palace overlooking it, tree’s, greenery, and middle aged men running around in quite possibly the shortest short shorts ever…
Anyhow, me and my shorts went out, and did 2½ laps (3 miles) in 31 minutes, without dying. Or puking.
Sure, that time isn’t really going to bother Mo Farah too much. But i’ll bet he cant make the same % improvement in just a week! I was happy with that. 3 miles, 10m17 per mile average. I still want to bring that time down, but i’m still opening up my lungs.
Tuesday, i bought a skipping rope. I cant skip. But i’ll keep trying until i can.
Wednesday. I grabbed that skipping rope, and after a bit of confusion on how to make it work, i headed into the basement car park. Yes, a little too subconcious about my skills to be doing it in the park! But i did 30 minutes. A lot of that time was spent whipping myself in the back, back of the head, arms, chest, stomach and legs. I resembled a dominatrix’s whipping boy by the time i was done… but i’d managed to get something done that vaguely looked like skipping. I think i prefer the term ‘jump rope’, sounds a bit less ‘school girly’ than skipping.
I was very hot and sweating. I think security had spotted me on CCTV, as all the fan’s came on down there, which helped cool things down a little. 33 revolutions was my best, with a lot of 15’s, and too many 1-3’s. Generally 8-12 when doing one-footed.
Thursday. My calves were wrecked from jump rope. So i went for a run around the park. 3 miles, 29m27s. Jogged all of it, except for maybe 100 meters. Improving each time.
Thursday evening i spent a few minutes just messing about with the rope. Managed to mid-skip transition from 2 footed, to left footed, to right footed.
Friday. Rest day. My calves are making rude gestures towards me.