Free Peace Sweet

Today was a day of three parts.

Part 1 started overnight and proliferated through most of the day. It came as the random, disruptive, but  wonderful interference that is an eight week old child. In the slightly-too-late-to-still-be-called-early hours I was still Twittering with JogBlog, she with assignments to research, me with a fractious young-un to rock back to sleep.

"Little Adventures"

This is not unusual. Little-Adventures hasn't worked out joined-up sleeping yet. Spells of between twenty minutes and three hours are haphazardly sprinkled through day and night. People without children often ask "Does he have a routine yet?", to which we answer "Oh yes.... every half an hour he changes his mind."

But it's good stuff, and with challenges come rewards. A difficult night meant a wonderful day, with a long lie in for mummy (her first), and regular rounds of sleep, change, feed, sleep, change and play. As I type, he sleeps.

Part 2 was a to-do list, well ticked. Nana mucked in, gladly occupying Littl'un while his mum and I sorted out the Christmas decorations before they went into the loft, had a general clear out and spruce up, and finally built the brand-new-all-singing-all-dancing-cot-bed to replace a Moses basket, to which all babies appear to have an allergic reaction.

Part 3 was the run: very late in execution, and very light on planning. In the twenty seconds I gave myself to think of a fresh trail loop, I failed. So on with the road shoes and out the door, figuring if nothing else came to mind I could do a brainless out-and-back.

Heading up over Rowhill the legs felt a bit jangly (twenty days of running will do that), but as the Garmin beeped one mile, I was surprised to see 7:34 on the timer. A quick sense check revealed everything was settling down, and with a gentle descent ahead, I decided to try and fix on a sub 7:30 pace for the first time in months.

Straight down the deserted A325, past Aldershot's Garrison Church and Queen's Parade playing fields, then a right turn round a school where I used to play rugby, then right again into North Camp and past the Garrison sports facilities. Five miles in, and struggling to maintain pace up "Hospital Hill" I checked the watch, and with relief I saw I was averaging 7:27. I worked out that if I pressed on, I might have a spare twenty seconds to get me back over Rowhill in time.

"You boy, fetch me a bigger horse!"

A lightening stop at 10k for a photo of the Duke of Wellington on his diminutive pony, and then a straight fight uphill. Bursting over the top I fought to keep the legs turning over, and pushed again on the descent. Overshooting my turning to round up the distance I wrung every drop out of my lungs and legs, gasping in relief as the Garmin finally beeped.

The result was a very satisfying day. As I sit with tingling legs I feel invigorated that I managed to average 7:20 per mile on tonight's run, faster than I've sustained for a long time. I feel at ease in my home, knowing things needing doing are done. Above all, I feel very lucky to have our little endurance-monkey as our son.

Tonight's run: 8miles, 58:39mins, avg pace 7:20/mile. Last mile in 6:44.
Janathon total: 203miles, 1838mins, avg pace 8:52/mile, 4.2kgs lost.
As always, you can check out my stats and maps here, and leave your abuse below. All gladly received.