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In the long run
So yesterday was back on the Runkeeper training schedule, after shifting the plan back by a week to reach 30 October rather than 23 October. Having run with Lewes AC crowd on Tuesday & Thursday, rather than using the RK plan, I wondered how it would feel being on my own over a long run. Plus this was (I think) the longest long run in the whole schedule at 16 miles.
I set off around 11am, and headed out round and up Rotten Row - and realised that my planned route (up to Black Cap and beyond) would be an almost continuous climb over the first 5 miles. My target pace was around 6 mins per kilometre for the first 11k (steady), then 5m30s for the next 6k (fast), then back to 6 mins pace for last 8k. I figured I could add c 30s per km for the amount of climb involved.
The day was cloudy but still - running against the wind is something that really irritates me. I don't mind (indeed quite like) the rain, dislike hot sun, but hate the wind. I shout at it when on top of the Downs it blasts from all sides. So today was a good day.
Lots of walkers, gaggles of cyclists, but fewer runners than I would have expected. I always find it amusing when you see walkers out on the Downs, with maps and hefty boots, layers of clothing and hats, packs carrying provisions and water - enough to survive a night on top of high Scottish mountains. And then you trip past them in light shoes and a single layer of lycra and give them a cheery wave. I wonder if they ever reflect on their overdressedness.
I'm trying to maintain a steady cadence - approaching 180bpm - so short short steps going uphill. Having read that faster leg speed is the key to - well everything - I've been trying to treat this like (I gather) cyclists approach hills with low gears. Takes some getting your head round, but when it works, it seems a little miraculous.
A strung out group of walkers are starting up Black Cap about 500m away and I set a goal to beat them to the top - but without sprinting up there. Sure enough they slow as the stroll up and I trot past them, touch the trig point and continue. Rather than pausing and taking a pic, I am trying to do this run without any break, since I need to experience 21k unbroken.
About 8k in I've now reached the undulating green of the stretch up to Ditchling beacon - and it's a glorious feeling. I find it takes me half an hour to warm into the run and all the physical stuff to slot into place. And since there are views south to Brighton and the sea, and north across the weald, and the ground underneath is like a grass carpet - with gentle up slopes and down slopes to keep the interest - it's the high point of the run.
Rounding Ditchling Beacon I realise I have only gone beyond this point on two or three occasions and forget it continues in the same undulating broad green pathways but with one quite sharp downhill. I'd aimed to turn at 11k and head back fast for 6k. This target means I pass through a gate held open by walkers, and then 300m on turn and run back past the same group. Slightly bemused looks - do they think runners slight fools for not slowing down and enjoying the place? Different kind of enjoyment.
The uphill section is more testing than I had expected - trying to push the pace 12k in is not easy but I persist. Sadly my otherwise reliable phone decides to develop a glitch which means an unwelcome pause. I run with RK and music - so I have a familiar set of tunes and a voice telling me just how far and fast I've done. Except now Siri kicks in and tells me she doesn't understand what I am saying. So I have to stop. Unplug headphones. And annoyed, switch to running and reading the pace.
It's ironic - or perhaps understandable - that now I am running faster, the interruption kicking me into greater speed. I can now hear my breathing and sound of the shoes on the grass and gravel. And the landscape and walkers around me are no longer in a separate world. Reconnected to the Downs it's a reminder that I used to prefer this approach.
I take a guess at where 6k will end up and push on across the white chalk farm paths, down to Black Cap again and through to Mount Harry. I pause and see I have just past the required 6.4k interval - 17.75k done, and it's "just" another 8k to go. At this point I decide to drop down to Offham, rather than direct down to Lewes and doing a few loops to finish.
The path goes down through the woods - and I startle two walkers (I guess I must run more quietly than I imagined), one of whom literally jumps sideways as I pass. "Sorry! I'll sing loudly next time!" and I am gone. The old carting track rutted into the chalk heads steeply down to Offham and it's hard on the legs at 19k in.
Across the main road and off down towards Hamsey church - and as I approach the Ouse I see I've gone through half marathon distance. Still 3 miles to go, and now the pain is apparent. I realise I've stopped caring about the speed and the time, and I just need to finish.
I come up with some odd mantra - these are the miles that matter - as if it's a statement by a wise guru that I read somewhere. The lines repeat through my head, in a slightly hallucinogenic state. I continue along by the river, passing a speedy Lewes AC runner heading upstream. He looks cheery and spry. I'm sure I look dead.
Central Lewes seems odd after two hours plus up on the Downs. People move slowly. Carrying so much stuff. Eating food. It all has a surreal air. Suddenly I'm around Friars Walk and just 800m to go - where did those last 3k go? I press on, even the little slope up Grange Road seems monstrous now. And I try a last sprint for 200m to reach 26k. I am sure it was no faster as my legs have decided that's enough.
Home. Green smoothie quickly made. Tastes remarkably good.
I look at the clock. 2.15pm. I'm meant to be in a pub for pre-match drink. Well walking is best recovery - so unchanged, probably a little smelly. I head out the door and stretch my legs up Keere Street, drinking my smoothie.
That was fun.
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