A world of possibilities opened up in front of me last night, when J told me he'd taken Friday off. I had already booked a Core session early the next morning, but after a horrible night with little sleep that included getting up at 3 o'clock to clean up after Tidus, who'd thrown up in the hallway, I didn't fancy getting up at 5:40 to run to the gym.
So my alternatives for this particular day were a) run or b) go skiing with J. Why not do both? I thought, and went for a short run while J ate his breakfast. A couple of hours later I was putting on my skis at the ski stadium. Not wanting to try
my luck any hills,
I kept to the camping area, which reduced the distance I
covered with each round to just over one kilometre. I practised braking by ploughing and glided down some gentle slopes. I was quite pleased with myself.
The experience I gained while doing the 6-hour ultra in Skövde and the Ultra Intervals must have taught my brain how to deal with boredom, because suddenly I looked at my Garmin and I'd been skiing for an hour without even noticing. Round and round the short track, lost in my thoughts, the monotony of the bland surroundings hardly affecting me, I thought about J, who was going to try skiing 20 km further up the mountain. We had discussed beforehand that, when I was done with my training, I could wait for him in the warmth of the car. I'd even taken my camera with me, in case I felt like walking around a bit and taking a few photos. But instead I wanted to keep going. One more round around the track. And then one more.
|The tracks were fresh. How could I resist?|
When J finally showed up with 20 km under his belt, my Garmin showed almost 13. My shoulders were starting to burn and I was so tired that my brain had jumped ship (as evidenced by the fact that I even started considering skiing down some hills, cocky from not having fallen down once thus far. Obviously hallucinating I was some kind of proper skier). This was the furthest I had ever skied. I suspect it's not such a good idea to break such records the day before a long run. Hope my legs can carry me tomorrow.