Run: 7hrs 38min (56.6mi) / Gym: 16mins / Crosstrain: 0mins

This week didn’t quite go to plan. The grand design was a couple of purposeful runs to start the week, followed by a flight to Majorca midweek to meet some mates for a few sun-soaked days of cycling and smug Strava uploads. But life, as it tends to, intervened. Domestic pressures put the brakes on that one, and I swapped Lycra in the Balearics for the less glamorous role of family logistics manager.

Monday never really got going — one of those days where the kit sits out, silently accusing you from the corner. Tuesday, though, brought redemption: the familiar morning loop, followed by the 10-miler that evening. Routine is its own reward sometimes.

The rest of the week was spent mostly at home, reconnecting and looking after each other — which, in its own way, was probably more restorative than any training camp. I did sneak out on Thursday, though, and finally logged an 18-miler — my first in about a year. It was one of those steady, quietly satisfying runs: sub-8-minute pace, lungs behaving, no drama. Friday started with a short turbo spin and some knee-strengthening work before the school run, then a long walk to clear the head. Come evening, I tested whether the “leg loosener” had done its job — it had — and got round the Friday 10K without complaint.

Run: 6hrs 49min (50.4mi) / Gym: 10mins / Crosstrain: 45mins

Fifty miles banked this week — not bad going considering the chaos orbiting around me. Monday kicked off with the usual loop, a steady cruise at eight-minute miles; just enough to wake the legs without waking any ambition. An easy 5.5-miler that evening kept the system ticking over ahead of Tuesday’s let’s-see-what’s-left-in-the-tank session — five 1K repeats, aiming to flirt with the 3:45 mark. Three of them obliged, the others reminded me I’m mortal. I’ve also taken up Tai Chi, apparently in search of “balance,” though at this point I’ll settle for ten minutes without my phone buzzing. The evening 10-miler — audiobook on, mind elsewhere — has become a sort of meditation, Ross Edgley rambling in my ear while I pretend the North East drizzle is sea spray. Wednesday’s turbo session was a test of patience more than fitness; 45 minutes staring at a wall, wondering why I don’t just ride outside like a normal person. Thursday brought the weekly tempo suffer-fest, extended from three to four miles — because why not make it worse? Averaged about 6:35 pace, which was decent enough to justify a grin and an extra coffee. Friday offered the Fenham loop — shorter, hillier, a bit of variety before the usual evening 10K, run increasingly in darkness that makes the local estate feel like a low-budget thriller. The weekend was a write-off, though for noble cause: my eldest turned eighteen. We hosted the party in the front garden under a tent, and while the neighbours may never forgive me, my legs probably will. Balance, of sorts.

Run: 7hrs 3min (50.1mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0mins

Monday was set aside for my eldest’s 18th birthday—family first, no running required. By Tuesday I was back on the morning loop, choosing an easy pace instead of the usual speed work; the legs just didn’t have the sharpness. The evening brought a steadier rhythm with a 10-mile run while my son was at football training.

Wednesday, for once, was a genuine rest day. Thursday returned me to the loop again, and Friday followed suit, this time with an extra 5.8 miles added while my daughter was at hockey training.

Saturday dissolved into party preparations and sideline time at school sport, leaving Sunday to round out the week. An early 10k let me jog past the Great North Run start line before the crowds arrived, and later in the day I added a five-mile trail run with the dog.

Three full rest days meant it wasn’t the most intense week, but with 50 miles logged alongside family milestones, it felt like a balance struck well enough.

Run: 6hrs 13min (46.5mi) / Gym: 25mins / Crosstrain: 1hr 0mins

The week began with a later-than-usual Monday run, a 10k at 8:05 pace slotted around school holiday chaos. Tuesday brought a return to speed work: 800m repeats in the morning, followed by a 10-mile run in the evening, the legs tested twice over in a single day.

Wednesday saw the debut of the new Concept2 rower. Ten and a half minutes of steady pulling yielded 2,500m, capped with some bodyweight resistance work. Thursday’s session shifted tempo into the evening, inspired by reading that the body handles effort better later in the day. With that in mind—and a few experimental supplements from JustFloow—I managed three miles of 6:20-something splits, quick enough to feel sharp again.

Friday’s ‘southern loop’  added another 10k to the tally. Saturday should have been a century ride in North Yorkshire, but the day started in less heroic fashion: several hours hunched over the toilet ended any chance of it happening. Instead, Saturday was written off as recovery.

By Sunday I was back in motion with 50 minutes on the turbo trainer, then headed out for a 10-mile run, holding the heart rate at 155bpm—a pace that felt like no-man’s land, neither comfortable nor punishing. A frustrating miss in the middle of the week, but still plenty of miles in the bank.

Run: 5hrs 48min (43.3mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 46mins

Monday was given over to recovery after the journey back, a day of catching breath before rejoining familiar routes. By Tuesday morning I was back on the loop, pushing harder than intended in a bid to prove the legs still had something in them. The effort was balanced later with mobility and stretching, which are starting to settle in as regular companions.

That evening football training offered another chance to run, so I tucked in seven more easy miles, using the session to nudge rhythm and form back into place. Wednesday was left blank, Thursday brought a return to the loop, and Friday another pause.

Saturday repeated the loop again, and Sunday delivered the week’s highlight: the extended 10-mile version, followed in the evening by three barefoot miles on the treadmill, rounded off with mobility and knee work in the gym.

All told, a satisfying reintroduction – not perfect, but enough mileage to feel like the return to routine had properly begun.

Run: 1hrs 33min (8.3mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 2hr 24mins

The week began with a day of movement: leaving the mountains of Montenegro, skirting the bustle of Dubrovnik, and finally reaching Kolocep, a small, car-free island that would be home for six days. After weeks of varied training, just stepping off the ferry felt like easing into recovery mode.

On Tuesday I slid a kayak into the glassy water and paddled three miles around the southern tip of the island, weaving through limestone cliffs and slipping into the Blue Caves. Shoulders ached in a satisfying way, but the silence inside the cave was its own reward.

Wednesday slowed to island pace – saltwater, shade, and little else. By contrast, Thursday roared into life on the back of a jet ski. My daughter insisted on piloting, carving sharp turns across the bay of Dubrovnik while I held on, laughing and grimacing in equal measure. Back on Kolocep, a gentle walk across the island restored some balance.

Friday morning I laced up for a run that looped just over five miles around the island’s paths and olive groves, followed by a cooling swim in the shallows. Saturday brought another sea dip and then a final 5k jog across the island’s spine, before Sunday’s ferry and flight pulled me back to the UK.

Kolocep may have been more about saltwater than stopwatch, but it was the kind of week that reminded me why I keep blending travel with training: new places have a way of pushing the body just enough, and refreshing the mind a great deal more.

Run: 2hrs 13min (11.4mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 1hr 43mins

Week 31 turned the Strava feed into something resembling an adventure catalogue rather than a runner’s log. Monday set the tone with a 20-minute evening swim, the reward after a scorching day spent winding around Montenegro’s Kotor Bay. Tuesday delivered more of the same, a repeat dose of saltwater and sunshine, before the holiday properly grabbed the reins midweek.

When the trainers did finally come out, they got a rude awakening: a 10k in the mountain resort of Kolašin, half of it straight uphill, half back down, with no pavements to hide on. Traffic dodging added the adrenaline, while a chorus of barking street dogs kept the pulse a few notches higher than any Garmin would recommend. Later that day came kayaking with the kids on Biogradska Gora, proof that “cross-training” sometimes looks like holiday brochures. By evening, a treadmill in the hotel gym provided 30 minutes of structure, spiced with two sharp five-minute efforts just to remind the legs that speed still exists.

The week closed in fittingly wild style: another sea swim for its salt-water therapy, and then a proper plunge into Montenegro’s raw outdoors with a couple of hours canyoning in Nevidio Canyon, finished off with an hour’s hike back to the start. Not exactly the orthodox build-up for marathon season, but as a mid-summer training diary it reads like proof that movement, in all its forms, still counts

Run: 4hrs 1min (29.0mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0mins

This week was always going to be more about balance than bravado, with holiday looming and the training plan shoved into the overhead locker alongside the suncream. Monday ticked off the regular morning loop — familiar, unremarkable, but steady mileage in the bank. Tuesday’s speed session was a lesson in how a watch can play tricks with the ego: a sluggish opening mile at 6:40, followed by a sharper 6:19 and then 6:25 to close, bookended with the usual warm up and warm down. Two quiet days followed, the body probably grateful, before Friday doubled up with another loop in the morning and a 10k run baked into football training that evening.

And then the shift in gears — Saturday was less about tempo and more about Tetris, as cases were packed and the family hit the road to Manchester. By Sunday, the Adriatic had replaced the running track, and the only real session was a 20-minute sea swim: not exactly mileage in the legs, but not nothing either. Sometimes training is about chasing numbers, and sometimes it’s about remembering to keep moving, even when life pulls you toward the beach bar instead of the track.

Run: 5hrs 23min (38.9mi) / Gym: 11mins / Crosstrain: 1hr 4mins

Week 29 had the feel of one of those matches where the scoreboard looks tidy but the legs tell a different story. Monday was wisely taken as a rest day, the afterglow of the Peterborough train run still in the system. Tuesday was the sort of session you’d design if you wanted to test your lungs and your sense of humour: a sprint ladder climbing from 400 to 1600 metres before descending back down, with just enough recovery to remember what pain feels like. Later, there was a second act — some knee maintenance and a cautious flirtation with barefoot running on the treadmill in Vibrams, 25 minutes forefoot, five minutes regular stride, the long-term project of building strength from the ground up.

Wednesday kept things civilised with an hour on the turbo trainer, while Thursday brought the weekly reminder that tempo pace is as much about stubbornness as speed. Two miles to ease in, three miles locked at roughly 6:40 pace — a number that once lived in the “goal marathon” column, now the line in the sand — then a two-mile shuffle to close. Friday evening came with an easy run folded into football training, the kind of mileage that barely counts on paper but matters in the margins. The weekend was where the mileage really stacked: 14 miles on Saturday, then a slightly extended Sunday loop, both disciplined at a low 130bpm and yet still clipping along at an 8:12 pace. With holiday on the horizon, the aim was simple — fill the tank while the legs are playing ball.

Run: 6hrs 58min (51.7mii) / Gym: 19mins / Crosstrain: 1hr 2mins

This week was a bit of a juggle, the usual dance between family, work deadlines, and the lingering hope of personal progress. Monday started gently enough with a relaxed morning loop—legs ticking over, mind still half in weekend mode. Tuesday turned the screw with a track session stepping up to 1200m repeats. First one felt sluggish, like the body hadn’t quite caught up to the brain, but then I clicked into rhythm—three reps at sub-6 minute pace, comfortably uncomfortable. Wednesday was a shift in gear: an hour on the turbo trainer, nudging into the 5th ring for the final 15 minutes, average HR of 128bpm, which felt like honest work. Thursday… well, Thursday got away from me. No excuses, just life doing what it does. Friday became the make-good day—tempo run to cover the miss, knocking out 3 miles at 6:30 pace in 19:31, then straight into 20 minutes of stretching and mobility, which I’m really trying to make a habit post-run (three times a week is the goal). Friday evening saw the obligatory second run, because if nothing else, consistency. Saturday’s 10-miler surprised me—legs should’ve been cooked but held up well. Then Sunday became something between logistics and long run: dropping my daughter at a training camp in Peterborough, then logging 13 miles through the Northamptonshire countryside to get back to the station in time for the train home. A week where, despite the chaos, the work got done—just about.