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.

Week 36: 8 – 14 Sept

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.

Week 35: 1 – 7 Sept

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.