Hyperventilation

Seems I've struck a chord with all this guff, well that's good and bad. Nice it's appreciated, but bad that you'll expect more of  the same, so here goes.

This week was a bit different, my nice neice, the air hostess was getting married, so we were all trogging off to Hythe in Kent for a couple of days so a chance to rest. The gig was in Lympne Castle, a 13th century relic about 5 miles from Hythe just along the coast from Folkstone. I have to say it all went really well and the party afterwards was a great craic, but all that "dancing" left me and others a little tired (as a newt), so how would Thursdays session pan out after all that.

A handful of 200's followed by a couple of 300's, at this point in my fitness regeime I was probably going to struggle. Sooooo, the twos went OK though, hitting the target time was rather like pushing a Ford Transit uphill, but I was close enough. The first of the 300's was amazingly close to the required number of seconds - shock nearly killed me, but that's where the success came to an end and half way round the second one, the bear I had been  aquainted with last year, leapt on my back and introduced me to the fridge he was carrying and the wheels came off, that was much more like it. Head spinning I found excuses to sit whilst I was amused by the world spinning gayly past.

The weekend brought fresh rest, and fresh opportunity for punishment, the road runs saw to that nicely, such a chance for hyperventilation could not be overlooked - twice! So Monday off then.

Tuesday was a more civilised affair 3 x 400 - simples. Not! Managed the first easy enough, and was sill able to breath at the end, second one not so much. You may remember the bear and his fridge, well we meet again old friend. The drive home was somewhat delayed, and full of questions such as why am I doing this and where did I put the 12 year old Highland Park?

So we reached Thursday's rather vicious looking session - 7x200m. One of the coaches I annoy by asking 'Mike, how do I . . . .' week in week out, suggested reducing the recoveries. Hmmm seems logical with all that Lactic and Aerobic stuff going on (The Alactic only gets me through the warm up). But I chickened out and just walked back each time progressively more slowly after spending a few seconds intently studying the ground beween my feet, re-learning how to breath. I got to the last one having made my aquaintance with the fridge carrying bear, and things got really interesting. 100m in as I wandered across the lanes like a drunkard and completed the slowest 200 of my life, mind you, I ran further than 200 having used all three inside lanes to get there. Needless to say I was late getting home, again, but at least I know where the Higland Park is now and I have a 3 day break to recover.

Oh, did I get that wrong, but I'll tell you all about that next week, in the mean time I have a single malt to finish, recoveries can be "such fun".