I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. Miffed, I suppose. Wondering how much better I'd be with 10-25% more puff. Resigned to my fate. Wondering, in my more miserable moments, if I've got some weird lung disease. On balance, I think 'Stuff it - I've just got to play the hand I've been dealt'.
And so, having been on a course all weekend, I seized the opportunity tonight to pop out for a short, hilly, tempo run. This was made all the more enjoyable by stopping briefly to pat Jess, a lovely collie who guards the drive of a house I pass. It was made more interesting by running through a flood that spread right across the lane. This flood is often there as it sits in a depression in the road that is drained only by a small hole under the stone wall. But we've had a lot of rain. So, as I ploughed into it, it was a lot deeper than normal and the water came up to over my knees. Needless to say, it wasn't particularly warm! And, of course, just as soon as I'd managed to warm up a bit, I had to go back through it all over again. It was like having your post-run ice-bath while you're actually running.
Still, it was a bright, clear night with a good moon, which made the running a pleasure - even with micro-lungs.