April Fuel 2014

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Three weeks without bread. Three weeks with greatly reduced alcohol. That's been the basis of my dietary slant on returning to fitness and healthy brimfulness.

The bread I don't miss at all. The alcohol? Well, I do miss it somewhat, but I don't feel enslaved by it either, so it's a fair balancing act. In short, it's all fine. I'm back at my fighting weight, I feel great, and I'm churning out a few decent runs.

I have my sights set on a half marathon in May, and further afield, another full marathon (my third) in September. The half marathon doesn't concern me too greatly - I could run that tomorrow, and am not really after a good time, it's just for the medal and the motivation.

The real goal is the September mara. But six months (nearly) is a long time to be in training. Any campaign of six months duration is going to have setbacks and periods of nil motivation. However, when I look back at my previous marathon campaigns, they have been lacklustre affairs - well planned of course, in true college undergraduate "fully prepared, rarely executed" form. The awful truth of those campaigns is that I've eventually run the marathons on too little training. Getting it right this time is going to be the primary focus. I have to tell myself the time doesn't matter nearly so much as finishing the damn thing in good form. Of course I'll look for a PB. That should be a given, considering the lack of kilometres I put into the first two. But I will consider it a success if I can finish the race feeling I have given it my best shot, regardless of the eventual time.

Anyway, we shall see. There's an awful lot of water to flow under the bridge between now and then, and a lot of kilometres to be run (something approaching one thousand of them is the aim). The training regime is pretty simple:

• Run every second day, i.e. seven times per fortnight.
  
• Build to around 200km per month.
  
• Two LSDs, two hill sessions, one Yasso 800 session and two tempo runs per fortnight.
  

And that's about all there is to it. Strength/core training will be mixed into the concoction as well of course, plus heaps of walking. And diet is a given - no bread, greatly reduced booze and well, the rest takes care of itself.

Wish me luck, RCers.

[marathondan]

Good luck!

As you say, 6 months is a long time to keep motivated. If it was me I'd declare this to be the start of half marathon training, and then consider after the Sydney half to be the full marathon training - which still gives you about 16 weeks. It's never too early to start on the mind games...

Very exciting on the spreadsheet front that you're counting the training in fortnightly blocks rather than weekly. 200km per months sounds like a sensible target. And as we all know, there's gold (medals) in them thar hills.

Keep us posted!

[glaconman]

Good Luck MLCMM.

You and Dan are like peas-in-a-pod these days. Organised. Knowledgeable. Sensible. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Well, it's spreadsheets at dawn from now on. I'm going to dust off Excel and start writing some VB.

And the breadmaker is going on eBay.

Seriously though, great to see you back in the saddle and in control of your running again.

[Sweder]

Good luck, mate. I have to agree, this is an eminently sensible course and one I feel certain you will navigate with aplomb. What I love about this place is that inspiration lurks just around the next mouse click. Following your progress will help me win my own, rather daunting battle, of which more later.

Let's get in amongst it.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Thank you all for your good wishes and comments! I can't tell you how motivating it is to know the RC gang is there with me. Sometimes, especially on those really early runs, it's only the knowledge that there's a whole bunch of you willing me to do well that keeps me going. Which brings me neatly to this morning's run...

... it is 4 a.m. on Werona Avenue, and I’m standing outside my house at the bottom of the hill. It is unsurprisingly very dark and very quiet. I am desperately tired, having awoken just a few short minutes ago and now finding myself standing alone in shorts and singlet, contemplating the road ahead and struggling with the question … “why”? But unfortunately I don’t have time for deep contemplation. Instead I hit start on my Garmin and wearily head off into the darkness.

This is my first 4 a.m. run since … God, when? Ages! It’s probably been about a year.* This however is not my old 10km out-and-back Pacific Highway sprint. This is a completely new and shorter route for me – a loop containing two hills; one modest, one tough, and this is my first “range finding” test of the circuit. But I don’t have much time, having only roughly thirty minutes before I have to be back home to be ready to catch the 5:09 train to work. It’s a bit … frantic.

At least it isn’t cold. In fact it’s quite mild, and I’m thankful for that at least. There is no-one else around at all, and it’s a weird feeling of dark, sweaty solitude in this normally busy area near the major commuter train station of Gordon. But with the first train still thirty minutes away I have (for a short time at least) the whole place to myself. I’m thinking three or possibly four circuits of this new route would be fine for a test run, and in any case it is all I have time for. And the reason for the early start is in fact pretty straight forward. I can run after work, and lately have been doing so, but to do these hill reps requires running normally very busy roads, so the best time is early in the morning. And I also prefer to enjoy the benefit one gets from an early run – despite the gruesome reality of getting out of bed at such an unholy hour, it provides a boost that lasts nearly all day, so it’s a simple choice really. However that doesn’t prevent the nagging, sometimes overwhelming doubt that swamps me as soon as the alarm sounds at 3:50 a.m. and which drowns out all the motivation, inspiration and determination that I had for the run when going to bed the night before.

That doubt however is soon swept away as lungfuls of clean, cool air clear my head and let me at least pretend that I’m really enjoying the exercise. Later, when I have finished, I know for sure that it will have been worthwhile so I put my head down and just get on with it. This morning I manage to complete three full circuits and some tacked-on warm-up and cool-down sections for a nice little 5km run with enough hills to know I’ve completed a decent work-out, despite it being only a half hour trot.

Then it’s the zombie-like home – shower – train – work commuter routine I could just about do in my sleep. The early morning run is a pattern I grew accustomed to a while back, but then it fell into disuse as my shifts changed at work and I began starting earlier and finishing earlier. The late afternoon run became the norm on work days, but to be honest there was always that little masochistic angel on my shoulder telling me I really did love those 4 a.m. runs. And it's true that an afternoon run rarely yields the same buzz that an early jog gives.

The real test of course will be when the weather turns cold and wet. Then we’ll see the truth of the matter, but for now, onward I plunge.


*In fact 22nd January 2013. Over 14 months ago.



Track du jour: This will get you going in the morning ...

[suzieq]

Sounds like you're getting back to fighting form MLCMM - great to hear! I commend you for giving up bread and cutting back on alcohol. If that works for you then go for it. I think I'll just run an extra km. or two rather than give up my glass of wine every day. And I laugh when you mention cold...tomorrow will be my first run in months where the temp. is above zero (hopefully). It's all relative.
Good to have you back running and blogging.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Thanks Suzie ... it is great to be back running and blogging again. It was only a few weeks absence, but boy, does it make a difference these days. Long, long gone are the days where a month or two off the fitness train could be regained in a few days. Now, three decades on, it takes weeks of determined effort and a drastic change to diet that was never an issue in youth. Still it’s always worthwhile, perhaps especially so as we age.

Speaking of determined efforts, I have another very early hill rep run to report.

As more than one early morning runner in these forums has noted over the years, alarm clocks are perhaps the most aptly named torture device in modern domesticity. When the first of mine went off this morning at 03:55 I swear the adrenaline rush nearly ripped my eyeballs out of their sockets and sent my heart rate into the stratosphere. And this was not the adrenaline rush of excitement, gentle viewer, not at all. This was the adrenaline rush of a car crash, and the blood-curdling screams of my mangled and wrecked body were no less abhorrent for being only in my mind. I imagine getting off my bunk on the dawn of my execution (should the fascist revolution happen in my lifetime) will be easier than rising in contemplation of my run this morning. Mind and body screamed in utter revolt at the thought of what I had planned and threw at me every ache, every pain, and every excuse both reasonable and absurd that it could think of to stop this anguish.

Odd, I think, that both mind and body screamed “No!” and yet a powerful third entity somehow shoved me out of bed, into my running togs and out the door. Or maybe it was just Mrs MLCMM fed up with my blathering and wanting to get back to sleep, I'm not sure.

Whatever it is was, I found myself on the street in the dark all alone and feeling like total crap but for some reason loathe to turn around and head back indoors. And so I ran, and as so often happens in these circumstances, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as my mind and body had insisted. I managed four of my difficult hill reps - tough and slow to be sure - but definitely manageable and far less trouble than actually getting out bed proved to be. And of course, the feeling of achievement was almost child-like and euphoric, and all out of proportion for what is a relatively humble 5km outing that would trouble few RC runners. A genuine work-out it is for sure, but hardly that noteworthy.

Oh well, noted is has been, and why not? I feel bloody fantastic and look forward to the next one.

Crikey!

[suzieq]

Well said!

[marathondan]

This is great reading MLCMM and it seems to be doing you a lot of good, mentally and physically. I completely understand and recall that sensation of finding yourself outside in pitch darkness, with a run ahead of you, and thinking "what the hell am I doing here?"

[El Gordo]

Good luck with the new nutritional regime, MLCMM. It sounds remarkably similar to mine which I started about 9 days ago. No starch, no booze. I've done ok on the bread, pasta, rice (etc) front, but the ban on alcohol has been harder to swallow. Indeed, a total failure. But tomorrow's a new day. At least I've been loading up on the salads again for the first time in months, which is enough to increase optimism that the rest will follow.

4am? Hmm, I'm sure i've mentioned previously the bunch of rowdy Texans sitting on my table at the pre-race pasta meal in Chicago in 2002 (bloody hell, is it really 12 years ago?). Their running club used to meet 3 times a week at 4am. Any other time was just too hot.

Sounds like you're pretty ramped up, so good luck. I need some of that furious enthusiasm. Perhaps the new Askwith book will put a bit of fire in the belly to replace the other stuff usually living there.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Well EG, I'd put it like this: it's no fun running at fo' in da mornin', but it's definitely rewarding. So there's certainly more of it coming my way.

Today however was long run day, and a return trip to my old stamping ground of Lane Cove River National Park. I left a little after 08:30, in theory after the major rush hour. However, the four kilometre run to the start of the park along the horrendous six-lane Lane Cove Road was notable for it being a complete car park. I ran the entire way without being overtaken by a single vehicle that I didn't then overtake and leave well behind. An odd experience that ... running several kilometres and being faster than all the vehicular traffic. I fancied I could feel steely, jealous eyes burning holes in my back as I ran past everything in sight. Having been stuck in that traffic myself many times however, I felt only pity rather than being smug.

Once at the park entrance however all that melted away and the peace and beauty of the park took over - a great running location, very popular with walkers, runners and cyclists, and suffering from only one problem: it's a bloody great hill and requires a 5km descent before turning at the far end and toiling back up the hill to the highway. A good workout it is indeed.

Today I was running very slowly - sensibly so, but mainly due to not actually being able to run any faster. My endurance and hill strength isn't too bad at the moment, but my speed has vanished. Whether that will return in time or not remains to be seen. It's early days yet.

The return journey was every bit as hard as I expected. I eventually returned home completely done in, the final hill rendering me an incoherent, jabbering mess. But I made it home - my longest run (19.2km) since the P2P last November. The thing about these hard runs is that you are left with the very clear impression that these are extremely worthy outings, and which I am desperate to improve on. And improve I will, and the feeling will be worth every knee ache and every drop of sweat.

I returned home to find a case of wine sitting on my doorstep, thus proving that there is sometimes light at the end of the tunnel. As a post-run rehydration strategy however, it was probably overkill so I made do with a protein drink and a small reservoir of water.

Thus far, all is looking good.

[Sweder]

I still count that as my favourite RC 'Down Your Way' run. That park is fabulous, as is the hill. I think this route is your path to major improvement. It's a proper test whatever your current condition. I very much doubt I could run it at any pace just at the moment.

[marathondan]

The return journey was every bit as hard as I expected. I eventually returned home completely done in, the final hill rendering me an incoherent, jabbering mess.

That's a great picture you've painted there. As you say, it's good to push yourself to the limit once in a while.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

That's a great picture you've painted there. As you say, it's good to push yourself to the limit once in a while.

Slightly over-pushed as it turns out, with sore and achey vastus medialis resulting. Luckily, after Suzie's visit last year, I bought an example of a very effective torture device she brought with her - humourously called "The Stick" which is just as painful and nearly as effective as a sports masseur but considerably cheaper, and this has helped.

Despite liberal use of "The Stick" however I was still sore and sorry for myself this morning as I took off for yet another insanely early pre-dawn plod. I cut it short after 22 minutes and avoided the worst of the hills, but I was pleased at least to get out there if only for a token run and maintain my promise to myself to run every second day sans excuse.

And even a short, painful run such as this really set me up for the day ahead. Got to love that.

[marathondan]

Yep it's all kilometers in the bank, and another victory recorded over the desire to stay in bed for an extra hour.

If you're going to be grinding out these super hard long and hilly sessions every week, maybe there needs to be space in your programme for a recovery run? With only 1 day's break, the session following the long one should perhaps be relatively gentle?

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Yep it's all kilometers in the bank, and another victory recorded over the desire to stay in bed for an extra hour.

If you're going to be grinding out these super hard long and hilly sessions every week, maybe there needs to be space in your programme for a recovery run? With only 1 day's break, the session following the long one should perhaps be relatively gentle?

There's no completely gentle running around here except on the treadmill Dan, and that's finally died an honourable but permanent death. No more resurrections - it's time to let it go. It served me well *sniff*.

Until I can find a suitable replacement then, it means hills, hills and more hills, on account of that's all I have around here. It's lucky I quite like the sodding things, eh?

[glaconman]

I'm in the same boat MLCMM.

There are valleys I can follow; canal paths etc. But if you want to go most places it's up a steep hill eventually. I won't bore you with more pictures of steep cobbled roads but they are a feature of the South Pennine landscape. But like you I love hilly running. I think some of the early turnpike roads around here were surveyed by a chap called
Blind Jack of Knaresborough. And they are very A to B.

I remember Sydney to be very undulating. I cycled up West Head Road and around the northern beaches and into town a few times. Melbourne is altogether less demanding; except for the tram dodging.

The only time I run at such hours is after jet-lag. I would love to be a morning person. But 7am seems to be the absolute earliest I can haul myself out of bed. And it still feels like the middle of the night.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

As cyclone Ita slams into far north Queensland, here in Sydney we have drizzly, gloomy weather and a severe weather warning for worsening conditions this afternoon. A miserable outlook you might say, especially on what is for me a rare weekend off work. And a torrid week it was too, taking management to court on Wednesday and then facing a ferocious meeting with them yesterday that caused both sides of the table to storm out of the room at different times and even included a claim of murder as things got really heated (one of our colleagues died on the job and management were accused of killing him through over-work and abusing his willingness to go the extra mile – a claim that wasn’t without a significant element of truth). You could say it was a hellish week, and it is far from resolved.

So when I woke up this morning earlier than warranted, I was already thinking about work. This despite having deliberately left all work-related material safely in my locker at work with the intent to not think about it at all over the weekend. Well, duh. The grey, cold and gloomy weather only lowered my spirits further as I contemplated my options over a pot of tea in the kitchen.

Whilst I don’t suffer from clinical depression, I’m not exactly Captain Chuckles either. This surprises some people who know me, as I do have a sense of humour and wield it as often as possible. But, as is so often the case, this belies a deeper unhappiness as I contemplate the world and man’s basic inhumanity that is so often on display, and too often hits close to home.

As I sat in the gloom of the kitchen it was therefore looking less and less likely that I could steel my resolve and head out the door for my scheduled run, which plainly I had no motivation for.

So what made me actually get out there? I don’t know, but I did, and I’m glad. Perhaps I just felt sick and tired of being downcast. I’m really not sure, but out the door I did run, straight into a veil of drizzle and a chilling breeze. Yuck.

Of course, as is nearly always the case, after a kilometre or two the running became easier, the rain eased off and as I ran past the East Gordon sports field where I had in mind a lap or two of the oval, there was a junior sports carnival happening, and so while the laps of the oval had to be postponed, the sheer cheeriness of hundreds of happy kids and their proud parents lifted my spirits well enough to focus on the task at hand, and instead of a token run I went further than intended and completed a decent-enough 10.6km run through the hilly streets of Gordon and Killara.

It goes into my spreadsheet as an “easy” run, because it doesn’t fit any of the other categories, but in truth there were a lot of hills, many of them quite tough. The thing is that this kind of run vanquishes all negative thoughts and really lifts the spirits. That it nearly didn’t happen at all is liking dodging a bullet – a rubber one perhaps, but a bullet even so. The one marked “miserable day ahead” whizzes harmlessly past and instead the day ahead looks bright and cheerful, all because I dragged my sorry arse out the door, gave myself a metaphorical slap across the face and lifted myself out of my mediocrity. The sports carnival was one of those happy moments of synchronicity that makes you appreciate the more positive aspects of humanity and just lets you get on with it in a fit and proper, positive state of healthy mind and body.

I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll keep saying it: running is a bloody excellent thing to do.

Happy again!

[Sweder]

Running is the answer. The two books I just completed support your study. No matter how gnarley your mood at the start, you're odds on to return from a run with a brighter outlook. It's why 'I don't feel like it' cuts no ice as a reason not to run. Good work indeed, and good luck when hostilities resume next week.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Another very early (4 a.m.) run this morning and thus far they are proving most ... enjoyable. Well, let me qualify that before the men in white coats arrive. What I mean is that the benefits of the early run are, at this stage of proceedings, and at this time of year (i.e. not exceedingly cold) brilliant. It's a run that really sets up the rest of my day, which is important at the moment as my work colleagues and I are locked in battle with a demonic management team that are hell-bent on destroying us for reasons only they comprehend. Or maybe they don't, which could be why their motives are so impossible to understand. Whatever.

The point is that these early runs are stupendously helpful in getting me through some very trying days, and so they continue. These runs are very odd because in the quiet and darkness my home suburb becomes a weirdly different place. Barely a car can be seen or heard in the whole half-hour it takes me to punch out four hills reps and five kilometres of plod. And the only real signs of life are the strange-sounding frogs along the creek in Burgoyne Street, and the occasional flash of fur which could be cat, rat or rabbit - it's always too dark to tell.

And so the show continues. This morning's effort was pretty good - I definitely felt much stronger and my time was a little quicker, so definite signs of improvement, which is welcome. I am still running very much slower than a year ago, but I keep telling myself pace doesn't matter (which is true); what really matters is getting out there and doing it and this is also very true, and is what lies at the heart of it all.

None of which suggests that I would willingly arise for a 4 a.m. run if there was any other choice, but then again, no-one is forcing me to do these runs I suppose, so it's a choice I make, and make very obviously alone.

But it is nice to have the streets to yourself. Sort of Apocalypse, 4 a.m. ... only without the Apocalypse. Erm ... look, just get out there and try it for yourself and you'll see what I mean. Don't rush the exits.

Onwards, fellow runners, onwards!