Run: 4hrs 26mins (32 miles) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0min
This week was less about chasing miles and more about maintaining balance—between family, training, and the emotional weight that’s been hanging around. No morning runs, deliberately. I wanted to be around when the rest of the house stirred—coffee, cereal, the usual scramble—because those moments matter too. Training was wedged into the margins, mainly during football practice with my younger son. Monday’s run was gentle, heart rate hovering at 128bpm, all about form and flow rather than speed. Same story midweek—Wednesday, Thursday, Friday—though I could feel the pace naturally ticking up a bit. Encouraging to see the body responding while still keeping the HR below 140. Saturday was all about my daughter and netball, and honestly, that kind of movement—the cheering, the chatting, the just being there—felt like training of a different kind. With funeral plans now mostly in place, I got out for a Sunday run at what I’m calling “late morning” (8:30am). Nothing flashy, just legs turning, lungs working, head a little clearer. A week where the miles mattered less than the reasons behind them.
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