‘First post race run…behave legs’
It’s just over a week since Outlaw Half. Recovery week is over, and there’s 7 weeks to go to Ironman UK, Bolton.
This time last week my legs were in bits, absolute tatters. As soon as I’d completed the run I knew my legs hated me. The first set of steps I encountered just after the exit of the race were designed by Dr Evil. I had to go down them to meet my friends and family. It felt like my calves were getting poked with red hot pokers and my quads were getting smashed with a mallet. Luckily the were only five steps to navigate this time but Dr Evil must have been cackling somewhere.
When I got to the spectator area at the finish line where everyone was, there was a whole new definition of pain. Dr Evil had obviously earned a professorship and decided to make steps about two feet high as a homage to some kind of medieval torturer. I must have looked like I’d had metal rods inserted in to both legs as I hobbled down them, I was a mess. Nothing that a bucket load of sausage rolls, chocolate, sweets and cans of coke couldn’t sort out. Well, not strictly true. A professional massage and painkillers may have worked better, but stuffing my face with junk food was much more fun.
I slept like a log that night. Getting out of bed the next morning though was the next major challenge. My legs had decided to take the day off. I can’t blame them, I should have done the same thing. They really weren’t very happy when I got them back on my bike for a ‘recovery ride’. I’m sure this is meant to be a good thing but it wasn’t pleasant. Thirty minutes later they’d officially gone on strike.
They didn’t come back until Thursday, and even then they were not happy with the deal I’d made with them to get them back to work. I’d promised them no runs were on the week’s programme, and the open water swim on Wednesday was arms only. Easy bike rides were the only acceptable leg option.
By Sunday’s longish ride of two and a half hours I was back to normal. It actually felt good to be back in the saddle. It was also a major relief that my legs felt relatively fresh when I finally got my first post race run out of the way this morning.
Maybe my legs will let me get through the next seven weeks. Bring on the long stuff.