It seems like months ago that I stood in front of the grandstand of Brighton Racecourse having completed the toughest 14 and a half hours of my life.
24 hours later I was in a bar in Manchester enjoying some of the cheapest beer I’ve encountered.
The next morning, my run was all but forgotten along with most of my memories from the previous night.
I felt like a line had been drawn and I needed to move on but to what? The last few weeks I have thought that I should:
Go Do The Same Again
There is an early bird special on the London2Brighton 100k next year and as a past runner, I get even more discount.
But I would just be running the same route as this year.
If the 2nd running goes badly, I will regret it. If it goes well, it will lessen the exceptional memories I have of the first time.
Time to move on.
Go Somewhere Else
100k is doable, I have now proved that.
So to keep my L2B memories intact but still challenge myself, I could run a new race in the UK or maybe even one of the sunny, flat races in Europe or further abroad.
Part of the reason that I decided to step up to 100k is that I didn’t want to do the same training just to go a bit faster.
Would the same distance somewhere else still provide the same challenge?
Like I said, 100k done. No longer a challenge.Only one thing for it, MUST GO LONGER.
So longer and hotter is the key. A lot hotter.
Like so hot that it melts the soles of your trainers if you don’t run on the white lines of the road.
During training for L2B, I took about 40 minutes off my marathon personal best.
It was unofficial but showed me that I could go faster without having to do ridiculous mileage which is what I’d been worried about.
Then a couple of weeks ago, I ran the fastest mile of my life and a week later the fastest 5k.
The feeling of beating my previous best was awesome but not so much the feeling of pushing myself so hard as I ran I thought I was going to throw up.
There is a masochistic pleasure in running long distances. In running short distances fast, it just hurt.
Go Find A Friend
Despite what I have previously written, I actually enjoy running with people.
I enjoyed helping others, being helped and actually enjoying the run with other people.
Is there a running club or community out there where I could enjoy the company but not feel like I had to chat?
I’d imagine it to be the running equivalent of a Working Man’s Club.
It had never really occurred to me to enjoy running a race.
I enjoyed the competition and pushing myself as well as the atmosphere but trotting along at your own pace with makeup and a selfie stick looked great fun.
Maybe I should slow it all down and just enjoy it all. Maybe without the glitter…
Just for a second, consider this Sam. Do something else.
No running or physical challenges. Learn a skill, go to the pub or go travel.
If it feels like I am on the road of life, don’t wait for a fork in the road, just head off-road.
I can definitely see myself as the gringo llama farmer of deepest, darkest Peru.
Go Tri Something New
I’ve watched a lot of videos in the past couple of weeks about triathlon douchebags vs ultrarunning douchebags.
The moral of the story is that every sport has douchebags and also that douchebag shouldn’t be repeated four times in two sentences.
As a kid I swam for Southampton (if coming last in one “meet” counts) and always enjoyed it.
I also like cycling although less so around London and as I have said once or twice, I like running.
So why not combine them all? Seems logical doesn’t it.
Or maybe I should tri (see what I did there) another take on the multisport format – Coast to Coast via run, kayak and bike.
Go Go Ironman
I immediately found a new hero.
Starting June 6, James is completing an Ironman triathlon every day, in every state of the USA – 50 Ironmans in 50 States in 50 Days.
Although I struggle with Ironmans being a legitimate plural, the feat is astonishing.
A 2.4 mile swim followed by 112 mile cycle topped with a marathon is most people’s idea of hell but every day for 50 days?
By the end of the challenge, he will have swam 120, cycled 5600 and run 1310 miles.
So although I am even close to contemplating such a ludicrous attempt, the thought of becoming an Ironman does appeal.
Especially as it means that I would definitely call myself an Ultra Ironman (if only to myself)!