Yesterday was the last run of the 5 easy weeks of running. It was a good day for training. The weather was lovely—cold but mostly calm. The boys were having fun—swimming in the river, chasing around the marshes and fields, and polite towards other dogs. I was happy. I ran an easy 10K with a few small hills. It was the first run in a while with no noticeable pain. I was so happy that I spent rest of the day on the sofa, and later devoured a full box of jalebis in the evening.

Today was the start of the next phase—13 hard weeks of training. The plan mileage is jumping from 24 miles last week to 38 miles this week. And the plan is moving from five easy runs a week to a combination of intervals, tempo runs, long runs, and easy runs for a total of six runs a week.

It was not a good start. I woke up in near perfect state, didn’t even feel a tinge walking down the steps. Slowly the pain made itself felt. The muscles in injured left leg started making themselves known during the warm-up and walk to the start. I ran just 4 easy miles, but the leg hurt from start to finish. By the end I could barely maintain the cadence or form.

I have stretched. I have foam rolled. I have iced. And I’m now going to apply a heat pack. All in the hope that tomorrow is better.

Because tomorrow is the first big run. 12x 400m intervals core with a total of nearly 15 Kms. If I survive tomorrow, there is hope I may survive the 13 weeks. If I don’t, then I’ll be glad that I haven’t already booked the acco in Paris.