Along the rather damp sides of the A27 for an interval run, 6 X 800 metres with 2 minutes jog recoveries in between, Distance: 6.21 Time: 53.55 Pace: 8.4 (best 6.55) Average heart rate: 152
Up betimes to put my daughter on the coach for a school trip to Holland, so was able to do an early morning run to Firle Beacon and back Time: 1:19:15 Distance: 8.13 Pace: 9.49 (best 7.41) Average heart rate: 146
In a reversal of the normal order of things, I ran a short 3 miles route this morning and will do a long run early tomorrow morning.
So for today's quick run up past the golf club:
Time: 26:52
Distance: 2.98
Pace: 9.01 (best 7.16)
Average heart rate: 185
To Splash Point and back, aim being to do a fast five miles, which I think I achieved.
Time: 42:31
Distance: 5.02
Pace: 8.29 (best 7.23)
Average heart rate: 151
Four sessions of a mile, with three minute jog recoveries in between, and warm up and cool down. Again executed on side of A27. Distance: 6.6 Time: 57.19 Pace: 8.41 (fastest was 5.42) Average heart rate: 160
A fine morning and in the interests of variety I ran the Bishopstone-Blackcap Farm-Firle Beacon route in reverse. Scores of hang-gliders on Bostal Hill, lots of lambs still.
Time: 1:48:46
Distance: 10.61
Pace: 10.15
Average heart rate: 159
Now three weeks to the Seaford half marathon
Total distance this week: 19.52
χαιρέτε νικὠμεν χαιρέτε νικὠμεν means "Greetings, we've won" and are the words attributed by Plutarch and Lucian to the runner who brought news of victory at the battle of Marathon to the people of Athens. They both wrote some six hundred years after the battle and the story is unlikely. Herodotus, who was closer to events, writes of a runner called Pheidippides who ran from Athens to Sparta to ask for help before the battle, but says nothing of a run to tell the Athenians of the victory.
"So, when Persia was dust, all cried, 'To Akropolis!
Run, Pheidippides, one race more! the meed is thy due!
"Athens is saved, thank Pan," go shout!' He flung down his shield
Ran like fire once more: and the space 'twixt the Fennel-field
And Athens was stubble again, a field which a fire runs through,
Till in he broke: 'Rejoice, we conquer!' Like wine through clay,
Joy in his blood bursting his heart, he died--the bliss!"
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