Run: 4hrs 36mins (35mi) / Gym: 32mins  / Crosstrain:  1hr 31mins

Managed to string together a pretty solid week, even if it felt like I was juggling flaming batons at times. Monday kicked off with a 5.5-mile evening run while my son trained—nice to piggyback my fitness onto his schedule, and a reminder that sometimes multitasking isn’t just a buzzword, it’s survival. Tuesday morning was a bleary-eyed weight session straight after dropping my daughter at early hockey. Honestly, getting under the bar before 7am should earn some sort of parenting medal. Wednesday’s run was steady, but heart rate crept up to 140bpm—nothing alarming, but enough to make me take mental note. Thursday evening called for a change of scenery—I was officially done with the usual loop, so I shook it up with a new route. Variety, if nothing else, keeps the legs (and brain) guessing. Friday was a scheduled rest day, though I squeezed in a short session of knee rehab in the afternoon—small steps, but important ones if I want longevity in this game. Saturday was a tale of two halves: an early morning ride with a mate, where after about an hour, that annoying abdominal pressure returned, like a hernia knocking on the door—not painful, but certainly uninvited. Ignored the grumble long enough to get through an afternoon run through the city and along the river. It was hot, but I locked in on cadence instead of heart rate, clocking an average of 171spm—trending the right way and feeling more fluid by the end. All in all, a week of training shaped by real life, but still moving the needle forward.

Run: 6hrs 27 mins (47mi) / Gym (0 mins) / Crosstrain: 1hr 15 mins

Bank holiday Monday delivered the kind of start that makes the rest of the week feel like a bonus—out early for a long run that finally crept past the 14-mile mark, the first time in a while I’ve gone that far. Kept things disciplined with the heart rate locked around 135bpm, reminding myself that long doesn’t have to mean fast. Tuesday was a rest day—earned and embraced. Wednesday brought the usual 7.6-miler in the morning, but I pushed the pace a touch, edging closer to 8-minute miles. That came at a cost, with the heart rate nudging above 140bpm. I know it’s too soon to chase speed, but old habits die hard.

Thursday was a change of gear—literally. After finally replacing the rear cassette and front chainring on the indoor bike, I jumped on the turbo trainer for 40 minutes. Felt solid, and it’s good to have that option back in the mix. Friday morning, I squeezed in a river run—6.5 miles while my son trained nearby. HR was again creeping over the 140 mark, another reminder that patience isn’t optional, it’s essential.

Saturday was a solid combo: a straightforward 10k on foot followed by 30 minutes back in the saddle on the turbo. Sunday wrapped it all up nicely with a steady 12.5-mile run. All in all, a strong return to running volume, with just enough variety to keep it interesting. The body’s holding up, the legs are talking but not shouting, and I’m slowly learning to let progress come without dragging it by the collar.

Run: 3hrs 11min (22miles)

Started the week with the usual Monday run, though it came in the evening this time—more out of necessity than preference—after a long day shackled to the desk. It was one of those deceptively short working weeks (just two days), but somehow that just compressed the chaos. Tuesday was all hands on deck trying to blitz the to-do list before escaping for a few days; no run, just the cardiovascular stress of deadlines and kids pinging around the house like pinballs. Wednesday brought a welcome shift—a family break to the Lake District, which meant a welcome return to slower rhythms and better views. Took the dog for a near-10k stretch along an old railway line, flat and forgiving, more of a moving meditation than a workout. Thursday was the highlight: a steady 8-mile loop around the lake, legs ticking over comfortably at just under 9-minute miles, the kind of run that feels like it resets more than it drains. From there, the rest of the week was given over to long walks, big skies, and big dinners—more nourishment for the soul than the Strava stats. A good reminder that not all training gains come from pounding pavements.

Run: 2hrs 59min (22miles) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0mins

This week, training slipped into the background a little—which, all things considered, felt right. Monday evening brought the usual 5.5-mile run, a steady effort ahead of Tuesday’s funeral. Running helped ease the mind, even if only briefly. The rest of the week was shaped more by family rhythm than training structure. On Wednesday, I stayed home while my son got a lift to training, and Thursday’s session was cancelled—most of the squad off on holiday. Missing those two runs was a shame from a consistency point of view, but not something I’d trade. I was where I needed to be, and that’s a win in a different column.

Friday saw things click back into routine with a regular 10k. The legs felt decent, the mind clearer. Saturday was a rare unicorn of a day—no kids’ sport, no commitments. No run either, but the family time more than made up for it. Sunday I laced up again for a solid 10-miler. Kept a steady eye on the heart rate, but pushed just enough to avoid drifting into a lazy plod. Not a high-volume week, but a reminder that there’s strength in flexibility—and sometimes, just showing up is the biggest step forward.

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.

Run: 3hrs 16mins (24.4mi) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0min

Morning runs still aren’t happening in the lead-up to the family funeral, so most of the running is squeezed in around football training with my younger son. Managed 5.5 miles this evening—somewhere between slightly too fast to be easy and not fast enough to be useful.

Mid-week I was in London supporting my eldest, which gave me the chance to run along the Thames on a crisp, sunny morning—always a lift. Then Friday brought a rare trip to the Lakes with friends, and I managed to shoehorn in a solid Sunday morning run around Derwent Water. One of those where the scenery does half the work for you.

Run: 1hr 46min (14miles) / Gym: 0mins / Crosstrain: 0mins

This week was all about supporting where I could, with training taking a back seat Monday through Friday. It was a conscious decision—focus on the essentials, be there for my wife, and keep everything else secondary.

Friday evening, I finally laced up the shoes while my son was at coaching. It felt great to be moving again, legs waking up and shaking off the rust. It was like letting fresh air into a stuffy room.

Saturday was a long, calming walk with my wife and the dog. A slow, steady way to be present and share some quiet time. The run from the night before had felt fantastic, but support was still the priority.

Sunday afternoon brought another window of opportunity. While my wife was checking in with our eldest, I took off for a run. My legs felt rested, and I settled into that perfect groove—swift, relaxed, like everything was just clicking. I came home elated, the high of running coursing through me. Maybe it was the release of finally letting myself go again, even if only for a while.