A fast and furious tortoise is a terrible thing to behold. His eyeballs bleed. But ask that tortoise to go far and he will plod along for days, no questions asked.
And that’s me. I love distance, the longer the better. Don’t hold me to any time constraints though. So when Coach Mo cut my weekend runs right down to 10km or less I was pretty bummed. How do you get your Sunday buzz out of an 8 kay trot?
I see where he’s going with this. He’s being sensible (ghastly word) and letting my cracked sacrum take a break. I’m not sure whether it will actually mend or whether the supporting muscles will just get stronger but either way is good.
So Coach Mo, I will do your program properly, every single workout, even those strengthening exercises which I sometimes pretend not to see. And I will continue to pound that treadmill at an ungodly pace when you so require as well as do my Dynamic Runner mobility, strength and stretching.
Anything really, just to be able to toe that Comrades start line one more time before I die, or my back crumbles, whichever comes first. My Comrades Project Partner is getting faster by the day. Maybe they should make her run to Durban and back.