May

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

So all that training on the hillsides sidestepping badger holes and horse poo paid off eh? Well done sir!

[Sweder]

Horribly jaded after a long day yesterday when I was up with the lark for a sortie over Stockholm. Happily I didn't succumb to the eponymous syndrome though some of my would-be captors were extremely attractive. Managed to get home in the late night hours where I sat on the sofa coughing my lungs up and wondering when I'll ever get around to visiting the Doc.

A cautious run then, my sleep-deprived body operating at something like seventy percent of normal. Clogged airbags aside there's a vicious niggle in my right kneecap that I should take a look at. Speaking of self-diagnosis I caught up with No Country For Old Men yesterday (courtesy of Moyleman) of which more elsewhere later. There's a scene where the ruthless killer has to patch himself up after taking a few shotgun blasts to his legs. It's certainly not for the squeamish, featuring amongst other things an iodine bath, some self-administered local anasthetic and a good deal of digging around in pale numbed flesh.

I ended my run feeling better than when I started (though that's not saying much) having shifted a few litres of sweat and a decent amount of lung butter. This respiratory thing isn't simply asthma; there's evidence of illness which might help to explain a few things. Plans for this week involve not much else aside from a bit of golf on Friday and the BHTT on Saturday. By Sunday I should be OK for a gentle Snake, but with the Brussels 20K just over a week away I'll err on the side of caution if there's any doubt.

[El Gordo]

We went to see "No Country for Old Men" a few weeks ago. Difficult to watch at some points, and ultimately rather cheerless and pessimistic, but always gripping. I saw it a couple of weeks after "There Will Be Blood". Put together, you feel that they say, and indeed explain, an awful lot about America, both positive and negative. Both movies deal with the dogged pursuit of a goal and, let's say, the down side of entrepreneurship. Neither is much of a comfort, but both are highly recommended. I suspect I'll be making a point of seeing both again some time, and I sense that each viewing will reveal more and more -- about the intentions of their creators, and about the nation that produced them.

[Sweder]

I felt similarly harrowed after NCFOM. Few light-hearted touches along what turned out to be a very dark and dusty trail. A (possibly deliberately) confusing finish too.

I agree with your summation that the film reflects much about the country; the lethargy and bare-faced sloth of many of the characters is endemic amongst the fat-dragging populace, certainly in the southern states. I found myself sympathising with Chigurh, the pudding-basined assasin with a penchant for compressed air. He seemed able to see the deadness behind the eyes of the sorrowful figures that unwittingly crossed his terrible path; despatching them seemed almost merciful.

Texas may not be a country for old men. It's certainly a haven for lazy lardbuckets of all genders.

[Sweder]

Turned out at the BHTT this morning but ended up marshalling thanks to a rough night coughing up phlegm. With Brussels next Sunday I'm taking no chances.

Finally buckled and went to the chemist to score some expectorant. Hopefully I'll get out tomorrow for a gentle lope with Moyleman.

[Sweder]

A gentle 17k through the east Brighton hills this morning. Moyleman blowing off ring-rust, Ade and Simon on a short one, Paul taking a Billy Nomates trip to Snakeville, Chris and a new (to me) chap from Reading Roadrunners, Simon Kay, setting out for the Residences. Simon proved to be an accomplished hillside loper, a tasty-sounding Keswick 40 miler swinging from his belt.

Unusual winds made Telscombe a battle but aided our drop back into Rottingdean. The 'Famous Residences' track includes an ugly urban climb, a real leg-tightener. Thankfully my gummy lungs rose above their recent tribulations to carry my lardy backside to the summit. We met up with a cluster of BHTT folk coming back off a seventeen miler, Lycra Tony bringing up the rear. It's good to see the old boy getting back into the distances after what's been a rotten two years injured. We bade farewell to them at St. Dunstan's, Chris and Simon setting a decent pace on the two mile run-in along the cliff tops. I worked hard to stay with them, thankful for the tow home. A ten minute coughing fit duly arrived at the finish but I settled for that; I hadn't barked once during the actual run.

Time for a visit to Mac's and a giggle with the rambunctious ladies crammed into the tiny steamroom that passes for the cafe kitchen. A week in Barcelona awaits followed by a weekend in Brussels and the 20k. I've no idea how I'll go on that one but at least I feel confident of making the start line, something that 24 hours ago was far from certain.

10.6 miles, 1:38.

[Sweder]

Nipped out for a five mile leg-loosener, as much to shift lactic residue as to test my increasingly niggly right knee. All seems well enough in that department, though it's definitely still 'there'. An easy week ahead on the running front, saving my beans for Brussels.

Thoughts turn to the weekend warriors, Remy, Jill and Marion.
Hopefully we'll hear how they got on in Copenhagen and Jersey soon enough.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Yes, look after that knee Sweder - you've put in the miles, it'd be a shame to pull out of Brussels because of a dodgy patella.

[El Gordo]

Yes, look after that knee Sweder - you've put in the miles, it'd be a shame to pull out of Brussels because of a dodgy patella.

Indeed, food poisoning would be terrible at this stage.

:RFLMAO:

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Indeed, food poisoning would be terrible at this stage.

:RFLMAO:

You been eating those Nottingham curries again, EG?

[Sweder]

I've had a testy knee-grumble for about a week. It's an undefinable something just below the right kneecap that occasionally lets me know it's there. Not painful, just annoying and mildly worrying.

In deference to a series of races coming up I've kept a clean sheet on the mid-week session front, taking advantage of a few days in Spain by dipping in and out of the ocean for the old cold salt water routine. The twinge still lingers but seems less pronounced than before. I set sail for Brussels on Saturday and have a window for a local (Lewes) gentle five miler early on Friday afternoon.

Do I head carefully for the hills and test the knee or do I carry on resting and see what happens on the starting grid in Brussels?
My personal preference is for the lightest of leg-looseners but I'm wary of undoing a weeks' rest.
Answers on a postcard please

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I've had a testy knee-grumble for about a week. It's an undefinable something just below the right kneecap that occasionally lets me know it's there. Not painful, just annoying and mildly worrying.

Do I head carefully for the hills and test the knee or do I carry on resting and see what happens on the starting grid in Brussels?
My personal preference is for the lightest of leg-looseners but I'm wary of undoing a weeks' rest.

Sounds familiar!

I'd suggest by all means do a leg loosener prior to the 20k, but make it flat and slow. The worst thing for runner's knee in my experience is downhill running. The second worst thing is fast running - in other words, keep the jarring to a minimum.

Supplement that with ibuprofen and glucosamine (though it's a bit late for Brussels if you're not already using it) and you'll get through the 20k.

And if you're not already doing so, get your physio to show you how to properly tape the kneecap, which will help.

Sacrificing a feral adult male Moravian Screaming goat on a Sussex tor under a waning moon would also be beneficial*.


Dr. Crisis Man.


*It won't help the knee, but it'll keep me amused and give the tabloids something to write about.

[El Gordo]

It's hard to be prescriptive without knowing exactly how the twinge feels. There are pros and cons of a Friday outing, and a variety of arguments could be advanced for either side. I suppose you could take the view that you're either fit to run the 20K or you're not, and that a 5 miler on Friday is unlikely to be the difference between being able to do the longer race, and not. The value of a Friday run might be to tell you if you're up to it. If you break down after 4 miles on Friday, you probably would have broken down after 4 miles in Brussels too. Maybe it's best to know that in advance. That said, you're generally fit enough to not suffer from a week off, and indeed, as Hal Higdon constantly tells us, runners tend to underestimate the value of rest. There are benefits of a run though, to loosen up a bit. This might even prevent a worse injury on Sunday.

Why not compromise? Stop thinking of "a 5 mile run on the hills" as your only option. If you think of it just as a) a loosener and b) a chance for you to assess the knee, you could just aim for a very gentle 2 or 3 miles, and think of it as therapy rather than a full-blown run. Just a gentle 2 mile jog is Higdon's recommendation for the day or two before a longish race, and is designed to help your preparation more than anything.

Edit: roughly the same as MLCM's thoughts then, though he included a funny line, and I didn't. Bastard.

Edit2: And yes, the glucosamine is a good call though it takes a few weeks to kick in.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Seems all the champs are going down...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/olympics...406108.stm

[Sweder]

Thanks chaps; sound advice as expected.
I'll go with the 3 mile very gentle lope, though it will be a little bit hilly as I'd prefer to keep it offroad (and keep impact to a minimum). There's a dearth of quality sacrificial goats in these parts but I do know a very naughty Spaniel who may suffice

EG I suspect the injury - if that's what it is - won't prevent me doing the race so it makes sense to take on the loosener. If for no other reason than to warm the legs for a darned good stretch. The one problem with having a restful week is you don't get to stretch enough; tight legs on race day invite their own troubles, so all in all the lope is a good idea.

MLCMan, like the intrepid Radcliffe I intend to run through the pain or, as the BBC weather forecasters assure me visa vi Bruxelles this weekend, through the rain. Paula has been told by her physician that she has 'no chance' of repairing and getting through enough training before Beijing. Like that's going to stop her. I feel for her though; seems she's destined to miss out on the really big occasions. Simon Barnes wrote a nice piece in the Times yesterday about sporting heroes (avoids temptation of gratuitous reference to that football match). He said that good athletes broke world records but great ones broke records at Olympics and World Champs. Whilst I'll always consider PR a top, top runner I would dearly love to see her pick up gold in Beijing, and not just for an exclusive newspaper column.

I'll let you know how it goes this afternoon.

[Sweder]

Well that could be the sound of the Paddy Waggon siren but thankfully things aren't that serious. The gentlest of lopes of certainly no more than 4 miles revealed a definite twinge but little else. I'll take my place on the grid in Brussels and see what comes my way.

I've been taking Glucosamine for about a month but perhaps in too small a dose. I'll up the intake and see if that helps. No doubt the offended patella - if indeed that's what it is - got fed up with the relentless downhill pounding at the end of the Three Forts. I can't recall the niggle before that anyway.

Otherwise a pleasant enough wobble across the downs on a lovely warm afternoon. I managed to sweat out about a litre of rioja - I recently discovered a rather moreish Marques Gran Reserva of 2002 vintage that slid down like liquid silk on my travels. A couple of bottles made the journey home with me this morning to sit unmolested until Sunday afternoon.

Musically I received mixed messages today. ACDC screamed they're gonna 'Walk All Over You' - whether this was me walking all over the course in Brussels because I could no longer run or taking the literal sentiment of the song I was to be the aggressor and stick it to the circuit was none too clear. Iggy Pop, appearing for the second outing in a row as I started the climb back up to the Stables with Lust For Life appeared to confirm the latter. I eschewed the obviouos invitation to up the pace; just as well as the very next number was as ominous an offering as I was likely to get; Alice Cooper snarling 'Welcome To My Nightmare/ Welcome To My Breakdown.'
Hmm.

[El Gordo]

I've been taking Glucosamine for about a month but perhaps in too small a dose. I'll up the intake and see if that helps.

It may well help. I took it for a long while without noticing any difference, then I doubled the dose and suddenly my knee twinge vanished. Almost.

I recently discovered a rather moreish Marques Gran Reserva of 2002 vintage that slid down like liquid silk on my travels. A couple of bottles made the journey home with me this morning to sit unmolested until Sunday afternoon.

Yeah. Rioja can be exceedingly seductive. Good luck in Brussels, and enjoy the vino.

[Moyleman]

Have a good one tomorrow.

Hope the knee holds out. Need your company @ Seaford.

Catch you soon m8.

[Sweder]

Cheers MM. Just back after my usual pre-race pint - a rather nice Guinness in a conveniently local Irish Pub.

3pm kick-offs might be OK for football matches but this is the first afternoon race start for me. Tonights pasta party was great though; eight of us gathered at Chez Ronan for hot n cold pasta and a right mixed bunch we were. A lithe semi-pro Handball player from Sweden, an Italian NGO rep currently living in Oxford and up for a 1:30 attempt, several French Belgiques including two debutantes over this distance, one of whom has embarked on a tour of current Brussels Jazz Marathon - nice! - hostilries even as I type. With a longest run of 7k under his gregarious belt the effervescent Jeane-Pierre is in for a fun afternoon.

The apres-slog re-hydration session shows potential

[Sweder]

This is very much a tale in three parts with the mid-section – the race itself – divided equally into four 5k sections. Lets begin then at the traditional jumping-off point; the beginning.

Breakfast

Woke up at around 9.30 am – such strange luxury on a race day! – and waited for Ronan, my genial host and a man I described in my Tales from Montreal, much to his consternation I might add, as having a ‘quiet sense of humour’. For the record (and now that I know that Ronan and some of his pals read this rubbish) I will expound on that and say he has a mischievous, understated and in some way mercurial nature. There, that should clear that up nicely.

During the previous evenings' pasta fest we had discussed the official pre-race dining advice as set out by the race organisers. This boldly stated that runners should dine at least four hours prior to start time. I may be over-quoting Mr Sheehan of late but given that we are all an experiment of one I find this sort of sweeping statement risible, declaring so in no uncertain terms to the gathered carb-loaders. Ronan stoutly defended his local arbiters stating that he would be taking them at their word. As things turned out, and as so often in life when people want/ need/ like to get along, we compromised. Breakfast was laid out at the student-friendly hour of eleven. Rice pudding, bananas, honey, seeded bread, coffee and plenty of water filled the table. Leo, the Oxford-based Italian greyhound, joined us and we set about our feast with great gusto. As substitutes for porridge oats go the rice pudding was excellent (if cold), mixing delightfully with chopped banana and honey. Of course we then kicked our fidgety heels for an hour or more before setting off for the Parc du Cinquantenaire whilst I whined constantly and without shame about the obvious folly of a mid-afternoon start.