Phils hills ills

Tonight was my first attempt at 'hill reps' as part of my London Marathon training.

Allegedly...

Yes, I went to the park apres the bulk of my work day, but pres (I'm sure that's right) an evening meeting.

Yes, I had spent the day mentally preparing myself to jog for 10 mins to warm up and have my first go at 5 x 1 min uphill, jogging back down.

Yes, I even ate healthily through the day so I was well petrolled .

Yes, I managed the 10 min jog ok-ish, but that's where the wheels... erm... feet... erm... ribs fell off.

I did manage almost an entire one uphill before the ribs decided this wasn't for me.

I say 'decided' like it was the culmination of a long discussion where both sides had a chance to rationally put forward their arguments before coming to a mutually convenient conclusion.

It was actually more like being smacked in the side by a cricket bat.

So, I bailed.

That's the second time an attempted run has failed due to the cracked ribs. Who'd have thought that they'd keep being so annoying for a whole month?

Oddly, they aren't giving me much jip when I'm cycling. I guess that's because I'm more hunched over, closer to the foetal position I scramble into whenever I feel a sneeze is imminent.

Now, you might think I'd take the hint, but if this marathon attempt is about anything, it's about me putting my body in it's place.

I'm gonna take it easy tomorrow and then have a go at the next task set by the sometimes-lovely-but-also-sometimes-not-quite-so-lovely Sally.

Surely it'll get better soon, but in the meantime I've got a dull meeting.