Time: 09:00
Distance: 16K
Location: Brighton Marina - Saltdean Lido - Telcombe Tye - Ovingdean
Conditions: Windy (30mph West South West), Dry, soggy underfoot
Run Time: 01:55:00
I look forward to the Sunday long run. This is by far the most rewarding run of the week, being both the longest and the most sociable, and in my mind a true yardstick for my progress (or lack thereof) over the week.
However, I awoke, late, this morning with a feeling of dread. I felt tired, knackered before I started. I'd been working hard this week, with my first track session in almost a year and a couple of reasonable mid-week runs, and I feared a backlash today. I managed a black coffee and toast with honey and drove rather too quickly to Brighton Marina. One positive aspect this morning was my mid-week investment in a Nathan water bottle and carrier and new Sugoi windcheater. Last weeks' Sunday run was made considerably tougher by the absence of these essential provisions; I wouldn't have that problem today.
A further boost was the turn-out at the start - 25+ runners, including a number of familiar faces from last years FLM crew. I started to perk up a bit when I heard tales of long layoffs, couch-potatoitis and blatant disregard for training in any form.
We started easily (wind-assisted) heading East to Saltdean. Following Andy's remarks on pre-run stretching (see 'Aches' thread in General Running) I decided on a minimal warmup routine. Our group have a gentle 2 mile lope to Staltdean where we re-group before the offroad section of the run. I elected to stretch there on warm muscles, and I have to say this felt very good.
My main thoughts this morning were 'take it easy, start slowly', and up to this point I'd stuck to the task. We set off up Telscombe Tye, the best part of a mile climb inland on grass and mud, and I found myself towards the front of the pack. What is it with me? Why do I have to run at the front? For one thing the view (in a mixed group) is better from last place, but I suffer some bizarre delusion that I'm a good runner and should be leading. I put a great deal of effort into putting in less effort, yet no-one came past me.
We turned West at the top of the Tye, skirting the farmland and Downs that make up the longer runs to come. One of the regular ladies, a consumate performer on these long runs, joined me and asked if I wanted to 'do the Snake'. This was not, as it may first appear, an outrageous invitation to detour into local bushes for an inpromptu dalliance but a reference to the 2.25 mile climb that forms part of the longer run, and would take us on a 12 mile route. I thought about it but declined. I really wanted to measure my performance against last week's run, and to do so accurately I would have to complete the same circuit.
We chatted some more, and came to the point where the main group turned South West (towards the sea) and my companion headed straight on. I glanced ahead and saw a group about 200 metres ahead, and right on que my Macho-chip buzzed into life and I increased my pace, catching them at the bottom of a steep decline. I felt good, and then realised that we'd reached the foot of Hamburger Hill, the infamous ploughed Field that our mentor had included last week. I'd been forced to walk up most of the hill last week, and had mentally prepared for this moment; I would run, albeit at snails' pace, right to the top. Our group, a 'breakaway' gang of five, formed a single file with two horribly fit looking blokes at the lead. The pace was sensible so I got my head down and dug in. A stubborn gate provided a few seconds' respite for my burning lungs, although I was pleased to note my back and legs were surprisingly quiet.
Another 200 metres and we crested the brow of the hill, pausing to take on water and reduce the sludge now formed on the souls of our shoes. The rest of the run proved uneventful, and I was mentally relaxed having achieved my personal goal of perpetual motion up the muddy hill.
I even managed a bit of acceleration over the last mile, the same finish I had struggled with on Thursday. The wind, whilst still directly into our faces, was a good deal weaker today. I finished third in our group and felt absolutely fantastic.
Something else that occured during my run today, and this is the first time it has happened to me, is I started to think about my RC diary entry during the run. This is a welcome distraction, and although I've forgotten most of what I'd 'written' on route, I hope this continues. I believe we all find quality thinking room on our runs, and if we could develop the capacity to retain our thoughts our diaries would start to reach the heights that Andy and Nigel regularly obtain. I had formed some ideas based on this weekend being the 3rd round of the FA Cup, giant-killing, sporting pinnacles for the underdog . . . but endorphins swarming through my brain devoured my notes, leaving a happy glow and little else.
One thing I want to write is an article/ interview with Jog Shop Sam. I've heard many amazing tales about his running career and I'm eager to get to the heart of the man, share his tales, rude and glorious as I'm sure they are, with my fellow forumites. I have a title - The Legend of Jog Shop Sam - and that's about it; but I reckon I can pursuade him to join me and my tape recorder over a beer or two sometime soon.
Thank you for watching
JANUARY 2005 - Back in Action
