August already 2014

[Charliecat5]

I feel a bit of a fraud going on about my blister in this place of serious ailments: wonky knees, dodgy tendons and the like… but I’m sure you’ll all be pleased to know it’s a lot better now and that I managed a lovely 3 mile run this evening. Setting off with no expectations other than to enjoy the beautiful weather and to ogle at the fantastic views I had a really relaxing run and weirdly quite a quick one given that speed wasn’t the objective.

Roll on August… I sense this is going to be a good month.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

There's nothing fraudulent about blisters - they effing hurt.

[Charliecat5]

Psychological warfare... me against the hills... or more accurately, me against me.

It was out on the bike this evening, sticking to my new plan to cross train and mix up the running with the biking. I decided to do one of my regular routes but this time to do it backwards. This involves some long slow climbs, just the type I don't like, and worse, long slow climbs into the prevailing wind. I need to put my head into places it prefers not to go... to harden my resolve. The good news is that I got to go down the Relentless Bastard and Heart Attack Hill for a pleasant change.

All I can say is... you can keep your pubs and drugs, alcohol or otherwise; you can keep your clubs and your gym membership. The views from the tops of the Downs this evening were phenomenal and the only high I need in my life (well nearly the only high I need).

   

As for the biking, 13 miles of glorious slog ... you can't beat it

   

I might call this route, the South Downs Mouse...

[Charliecat5]

After 24 hours of travelling we have arrived at our Villa in La Rochelle, France just in time for the bottom of Bertha to clip the coast leaving us running for cover like Obi wan Kenobi escaping the sand storms on Tatooine. However, between the showers the sun is hot and woods inviting, so before I sink head long into an evening of beer, crisps and more beer, I thought a little run would be fitting.

And what a lovely little run it was, just over 3 miles, mostly under the shade of the trees with the wind blowing a relatively cool breeze keeping the worse of the heat at bay. It was only the last half a mile or so when I got, ahem, lost, that I really began to feel the intensity of the heat radiating from above my head and from the pavement underneath my feet.

Back at the villa, I ran through the front door, out the back and straight into the pool. Glorious

[Bierzo Baggie]

That's a very flat place you've chosen to go on holiday Charliechat, great/endless beaches though. Hope the storm passes quickly!

[Charliecat5]

That's a very flat place you've chosen to go on holiday Charliechat, great/endless beaches though. Hope the storm passes quickly!

It certainly isn't the South Downs... however, having said that, there was more mini hills over wooded sand dunes than I expected. Just enough to stretch the backs of ones legs.

The beaches are amazing and once the sun is out I will be down there, board in hand going through that annual ritual of pretending I can surf.

[Charliecat5]

After a tough morning swimming in the pool, mooching around the local market and then lunch, I spent the afternoon surfing on the nearby beach (5 minute walk away). When I say surfing I mean body boarding. And when I say body boarding, I mean briefly balancing on a lump of plastic like a walrus until a wave rolls in and, ahem, rolls me off.

What better way to relax after such a strenuous day then to go for another 3 miler through the woods. I can't pretend it was particularly quick, or indeed pretty... but it was 3 miles and there was a pool at the end of it, and that equates to at least 8 bottles of the local lager this evening

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

... but it was 3 miles and there was a pool at the end of it, and that equates to at least 8 bottles of the local lager this evening

Pardon?

Eight pints versus a 3 mile run? Hmmm.

And larger than what, exactly?

[Charliecat5]

... but it was 3 miles and there was a pool at the end of it, and that equates to at least 8 bottles of the local lager this evening

Pardon?

Eight pints versus a 3 mile run? Hmmm.

And larger than what, exactly?

THEY'RE SMALL BOTTLES...

And holiday miles are always worth more on the BMR.

(Larger bottles of lager obv.)

[Charliecat5]

If anything is to prove how important nutrition is to running it has been my diet of the last week - although I would have to admit my diet hasn’t been at its best for a while.

This week has been epic; my average day has seen me start with a pain au chocolat before eating my own body weight in French bread, butter and raspberry jam. Lunch (which follows about 2 hours after breakfast) involves more bread, pâté and copious amounts of cheese, and a tomato – just to balance the diet. And then, after a couple of hours of holding in my expanding stomach on the beach, I return home for crisps and a G&T before dinner and an evening of beers (Moules-frites last night cooked in cream obv. and Leffe Blond being my favoured tipple of the week).

It is a small wonder during the course of this food and beer orgy that I’ve managed to go out running three times. Each run being approximately 3.3 miles – give or take getting lost in the woods. On the face of it these runs should have been relatively easy given the topography and the running conditions. Ok, it is hot, but apart the bits where I got lost the majority of these runs were under the cover of pine trees and over the softness of pine needles. I was surprised how hilly it was, hilly being a relative thing – it is not the South Downs, but even so running up small sharp inclines covered in loose sand does have an impact, but not as much an impact as my diet has had.

I worked hard this morning, trying to maintain a cadence of 90 strides per minute which was fine for the first mile, but by the end of the run I was down to below 80 with a pace that wasn’t that far short of 10min/mi. At home on my usual three milers, which often include Sweder’s Hill, I run an average pace of 8.45min/mi. So why the difference?

I am sure there are lots of reasons, but I can only put this down to diet. The main reason I put this down to diet, apart from the obvious gluttony experienced this week, is that in-between stuffing my face and pouring beer down my throat, I have been reading Eat and Run by Scott “Jurker” Jurek. This is a fascinating read and having now read a good proportion of the book I have discovered that his idea of eating and running is a little different to mine… his doesn’t involve pain au chocolat for instance. Now I am not planning any time soon to become a vegan, a lifetime of farming would never allow that, but he does reinforce how important a ‘good’ diet is. I know when I eat healthily I feel better; have more energy and can run further and faster.

Today is a tipping point in my holiday, as today is the last day on the coast with my extended family before we move inland for a week with my immediate family. This is important as it signifies my last day with my sister who is a very bad influence in terms of drinking in particular. So next week, whilst not being silly (I am still on holiday after all) I am looking forward to eating more sensibly – perhaps a little more fruit and a little less wheat/butter based products. I plan to run another three times during the week, so we’ll see how this goes.

Then on my return I really do want to up my game and extend my distances, so it will be a concerted effort to eat more healthily, to lose a few pounds (at least the ones I have put on this week) and to put in the miles.

As an aside, I am really enjoying Jurek’s book, the man is a machine, albeit a machine that still doesn’t stop when it breaks. I like his attitude to running and he shares some ideas and tips that can even help the likes of me. I am not sure he has persuaded me that I want to embark on a journey to ultramarathon greatness, but I do want to be able to run the Moyleman (probably not on the 15th March – because I will be biking it then) and the Aquilianos has captured my imagination for 2016.

Three slow miles in French woodland to 40 miles in the mountains of Northern Spain… I have a long way to go. For now, my next stop is the fridge

[marathondan]

The best running nutrition advice I've read: "Eat a wide variety of lightly processed foods." I don't think you can go too far wrong with that.

It does sound like you're probably sweating Leffe and pate through your pores, which can't help, but maybe some of this is psychological, too. I often find that if I expect a run to be easy, it isn't. If your head's in holiday mode, expecting gentle outings through sun-dappled glades, then you might struggle to knock out fast hill sessions. So don't let it worry you - it's great that you're running at all on holiday. Consider this a step-back week, and dive back in when you get home. But you might find it takes a further week to get back up to speed.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Eat healthy, feel heathy. Eat great, feel great ... but not so healthy. The perennial problem!

[Charliecat5]

This week we have been staying in a Yurt (I know) in an extremely quiet part of France, but not a part that is wholly devoid of bread, cheese and alcohol – in fact it has plenty of all things culinary and tasty; however, I have not quite been the glutton I was last week… more fruit and vegetables have past my lips over recent days and the alcohol intake has been substantially less. So putting confit duck and marshmallows toasted on an open fire to one side, my diet has improved… improved when compared to my previous excesses. Having said that, I am struggling to see my feet, so there is some serious work to be done post vacances.

But what of the running? Well thus far this week I have been out twice. The bells of the local church start their morning ritual at 7am every morning, chiming to encourage the locals out of bed to start work in the fields (or converting old barns into holiday lets, as it appears to be these days), so on both days I was out of bed by 7:10am and tying up the laces of my Nikes.

This part of the world is mostly woodland with fields interspersed between, which is lovely, but it is not clear where the tracks are, or indeed where they lead… so not wishing to risk getting lost on a somewhat grand scale, I decided to stick to the roads… roads that to be honest, are little more than farm tracks.

On Monday, the route took me out of our hamlet and onto the main thoroughfare to the next town. I ran up hill and down, past fields of sunflowers just starting to turn their heads to the rising sun, past old farms creaking into life and past endless rows of sweetcorn ripening on their stems. Having achieved just over 1.5 miles, I turned round and experienced it all again arriving home before the rest of them had even noticed that I had gone. So what of my pace? 8.15 min/mi without really trying which I put down to a combination of road running, a better diet; and to be truthful, a better frame of mind.

This morning I decided to run to a church in a neighbouring village which when we drove past yesterday I had estimated to be about 1.5 miles away. Of course it was more than that, but who cares? Again, I set off just as the sun was rising, passing fields of sweetcorn, sunflowers and a pig farm and best of all, a deer grazing in a field only 50 yards away from me, completely oblivious to the strange running man, huffing and puffing past her.

The church, as churches are, was on top of a hill which allowed me to stretch my lungs and test my muscles and after a quick rest at the top to enjoy the peace and the view, I turned round to retrace my steps home. My pace started to suffer a little and the old anxiety started to build, so remembering some of those rare wise words that Sweder once gave me, I switched my Garmin off (well I switched it from the pace screen to the clock, so I couldn’t see it) and sunk all my energies into absorbing the beauty around me. Funnily enough, when I did check my time at the end of the run, my pace was pretty good for a five miler (8.35 min/mi). More importantly though, I rediscovered a bit of the reason I started to run in the first place - the joy and simplicity of getting out there in the countryside, where the running itself becomes both the means and the end of reaching a state of tranquillity – a source of meditation if you will.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Sweaty meditation. Sweaty, smelly meditation. Sweaty, smelly meditation with cramps, blisters and torn ligaments. Well, who's to say it's not a legitimate form? Actually, I'm reading a book about exactly that right now. Book review soon. It's good stuff.

[Charliecat5]

You can keep your lovely summers days; you can keep those little forays through the beautiful French countryside; you can keep your traipses out through the mists of first light… proper running takes place on days like this when the rain lashes sideways and typhoons twist and prance on the tops.

This is running on August bank holiday Monday, and it was superb.

10 miles this morning over to Kingston, up onto the South Down Way, along to Southease and back along the river. Every glorious step was taken in torrential rain, just me and the elements. Well me and a couple of crazy mountain bikers, two dog walkers and fantastically, a family out on a camping/walking holiday – parents providing their young daughters with memories that they are never going to forget, or ever forgive their parents for!

I was up early this morning eating porridge at 8am ready for an 9am start and was out on time; energy levels remained fine all the way around helped by a flapjack at the halfway point, and my legs just kept going; in fact I could have done more which was an unusual experience.

Pace this morning was just over 9.5 min/mi which given that half of these were against the wind was pleasing. A good start to my new regime.

Onwards and upwards.

[Charliecat5]

I didn’t walk any of it… but for the first time for a while I did have to stop for a breather half way up the hill to the top of Kingston Ridge. I blame the fact I hadn’t recovered from Monday’s 10 miler. Still, apart from the breather I ran 5 miles last night at a moving pace of 9min/mi. It’s all time on the feet.

For something different and on Scott Jurek’s advice, I ran with my iPod listening to some beat popping music (Arcade Fire, in case you’re interested), something I haven’t done for months. The idea is that the beat of the music helps maintain ones cadence. I’m not sure if it made any difference to be honest. It was nice to listen to music, but on the other hand I missed the natural background hubbub you get out there on the trails. Whether it improved my running… the jury is undecided.

If I can manage another 5 miles on Friday (which is my intention) that will be 20 miles this week.

Onwards and upwards.

[Sweder]

Nice work. Can't wait to be back out there, so lovely, rain-splashed fields, wildlife on the move, birds getting fidgety, harvest time. Best time of year in our parrish.

[Charliecat5]

Nice work. Can't wait to be back out there, so lovely, rain-splashed fields, wildlife on the move, birds getting fidgety, harvest time. Best time of year in our parrish.

I can't wait for you to get back out here too. I've had various wildlife (human and otherwise) asking me where that other crack-pot is

I am looking to start cranking the miles up now - we'll see how it goes.

[Charliecat5]

Cripes… that’s 21.7 miles I’ve run this week. Tonight’s 5 miler turned into a 6.6 miler having decided to run up to Blackcap and back which I did at a 9 min/mi average pace, surprising even myself. And whilst I’m showing off my new found prowess, I clocked my fastest mile ever at 7:38 (mainly downhill I have to admit… alright, it was all downhill… and I had a couple of other runners behind me that spurred me into action… but still).

Anyway enough of the self-congratulation… it’s sure to go all wrong again next week. What the god of running deals one week, she takes away the next!

I ran with music again this evening and whilst I am still not clear whether it is a good thing or not, I am sure that The Cult did help power my feet – they certainly did less moaning – or perhaps I just couldn’t hear them. There was also the homemade flapjack which I have discovered is the perfect running food – rather like dwarf bread*; although proper dwarf bread has to be not just baked, but forged (with gravel, of course) and dropped in rivers and dried out, and sat on and left, and looked at every day and then put away again… anyway similar to that, as the thought of actually having to eat it keeps you going for miles.

No running this weekend due to our annual work BBQ so let’s see what Monday brings.

*Terry Pratchett, Discworld novels, in case you were wondering.