October 2012

So October, then. Two runs, 35 minutes, 6 kilometres. I'm going to let that sink in for a moment. Compared to pretty much any definition of a training month, that is — and I think the technical term here is — not great. The one run worth a mention was a morning outing that, if I'm being generous, at least confirmed my legs still work in roughly the right order, covering the distance at around 5:47 per kilometre, which is fine if you're not in any particular hurry (I wasn't).

So September now feels like it happened to a different, more motivated person. Twelve runs, 79 kilometres, 463 minutes, 13 personal records — the kind of month where things were genuinely clicking. And then October arrived, along with the darker mornings, the colder air, and apparently the complete evaporation of any enthusiasm I'd managed to build up. It's a familiar pattern if I'm honest, the clocks go back and some part of my brain files running under "optional." The optimistic reading is that I've got a base to come back to; the realistic reading is that I need to actually, you know, get out there before November makes October look industrious.

Summary generated by Claude