Thank you for the well wishes good folk of RC forum-land. I tell you one thing - announcing your intention to run a race to forumites and family certainly - if not motivating - gives you incentive to get the thing done.
No injuries or illness dog the MLCM body at present and there are no funerals to go to so it's all green lights for Sunday's race. My only real concern is keeping ahead of the sag wagon - being a club event it's a reasonably tight time frame to keep within, and I'll no doubt be at the very back in what will be a small field of 300 or so good runners.
A friend of mine called by yesterday and was aghast when I mentioned I was running the half marathon and urged me to go to church instead! I pointed out that if I ran a good race there was no reason why I couldn't do both but I think she thought the only way I'd be getting to church after the race would be in a pine box. My friend - clearly - is no runner.
But I am. (Although there may be about 300 club runners who have something to say about that on Sunday...)
This race went really well for me. Preparation was good, the weather was sublime, the course magnificent, the marshalls fantastic, the runners friendly and I ran a great race. In all, extremely positive.
My plan was a simple one - start at the back, enjoy the scenery, run slow consistent kilometres, walk through the drink stations and don't worry about the time. As it turned out, I didn't stick exactly to my plan but ran well anyhow.
I started out as intended, at the back of the pack and running roughly 6:30 kilometres. I quickly fell in with two other runners maintaining the same pace and we plodded on together, sharing a few jokes and delving into each others' running history.
The drink stations came and went and I stopped at none of them, as I felt quite strong and comfortable at this pace.
Just beyond the half way point one of the runners I was with stepped up somewhat and I went with them, at first not realising I was doing so, but then feeling good and going anyway. I put in five 6:00 kilometres before falling back to 6:30 pace for the last 4 km and crossing the line in 2h13:37 - nearly a minute and a half inside my "wishful thinking" time of 2h15, and posting negative splits in the process, so I am a happy half marathoner! And the biggest surprise for me - not a single walk break.
So that's that one ticked off - this race has been on my wish list for about 4 years now, so I'm pleased to have finally got there.
Strewth! Excellent result MLCMan, timely inspiration.
The cross training of recent months paid off handsomely - a salutary lesson for us all. If only I didn't have this nasty little devil* on my shoulder telling me not to bother with the gym :o
[SIZE="1"]*The same one that steers me unthinking into pubs and who calls up SP and whispers 'hey lets take the lardbucket out for a skinful'.[/SIZE]
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
Bierzo Baggie Wrote:...and it must have felt easy compared to running the half marathon by yourself on a treadmill. Sounds like you enjoyed it too....
Right on both counts BB! It was much easier than the treadmill and I really did enjoy it. It's now about 30 hours apres race and I'm feeling pretty good. A bit of leg soreness but not that much really, and most importantly the knees are good. Tomorrow I'm back on the bike to shake the cobwebs out and then it's back into the running shoes and some serious training.
Sweder Wrote:The cross training of recent months paid off handsomely - a salutary lesson for us all.
Indeed. I've been mulling over that a bit lately. It was really only at the insistence of my podiatrist that I got back on the bike after many years, and I am indeed surprised at how much it has helped my running and to overcome my knee problems. To have run two half marathons two weeks apart was unthinkable a few months ago, but I've got through them basically unscathed. A little calf soreness is about the only problem, and after two bike sessions today that has evaporated, so only 48 hours after Sunday's half I feel ready to go again. Amazing, and I have no doubt that's largely due to the cross training.
What really astonishes me is how little knee pain I'm now having. The cycling has done much to strengthen my quads and overcome the imbalance that running generally creates in the quads, which in turn exacerbates any knee problems - if I've understood my podiatrist correctly. Although I have to add that I've also been running far slower, which of course really makes a difference too.
So in the same way as orthotics overcame my perennial shin splints, achilles and ITB issues, I'm thinking now that cycling is overcoming my knee complaint. It's been a long road, but I finally feel that my running aspirations are now possible.
Which calls for a drink!
Damn. Actually, that'll have to wait. Double damn.
Which calls for a nice cup of tea, I mean an isotonic energy drink and a protein bar... groan. What's SP's phone number again?
This evening's run however, quite to the contrary was nothing to be proud of at all. After a day of bouncing around all over the place feeling quite brilliant, I was actually really looking forward to this evening's 5km leg-loosener. I jumped on the treadmill as soon as I got home and immediately ran into a storm of protest from hamstrings, calf muscles, ankles and a lead-weighted muscle fatigue that sprang out of nowhere.
It was ugly; bizarrely much tougher than the weekend's half, and I pulled the plug on what had descended into an utterly pointless exercise after 4 km. Clearly I hadn't recovered as well or as fully as I thought. Ah well, not to matter. All will come good in time.
In terms of training for the Adelaide marathon at the end of August, I haven't yet officially started anyhow. I've drawn up a 16 week program based on a Runners World schedule, of which this is week "0", so the real stuff doesn't start until next week.
Track du jour? U2's Out Of Control, which was playing when I pulled the plug, for neatly summarising my situation.
I didn't log in earlier in the week to find out how you got on MLCM. Wow, you did brilliantly, so pleased that you have coped so well and your knees aren't giving you any problems. Bet you do even better in the next
A far more comfortable run this evening, with 6km reasonably well accounted for. Just an 8km breast cancer fundraising fun run on Sunday to go now and then I launch into a 16 week marathon campaign on Monday.
Thus far everything is looking good, and I'm daring to think that this might indeed be the year when I finally get the illness and injury monkeys off my back. I have good reason to be optimistic, but can't help but temper it with caution. I felt this good and better last year but allowed sickness to disrupt my training and never really got back on track until recently. Still, I'm making progress so there's no reason to be anything but upbeat.
So I am.
Track du jour = Spinal Tap's Big Bottom. I shan't explain why - you kind of had to be there.
Never underestimate a fun run field, that's what I learned again today. Looking back to last year when I ran this race I did the same thing - thought that because it was a breast cancer fundraiser it would be full of not-so-serious runners.
Uh uh. And I forgot. That wasn't the point... but I'll get back to that.
The day started well before dawn. After a broken sleep I was up in the cold and dark to get some breakfast in me before the run, and honestly wondering why I do this nonsense, especially on a day off when I could be sleeping in.
None-the-less, I made my way to the Queen's Domain for two laps of a flat course - with the exception of one nasty hill that steepens toward the top, just to be a real bugger. The 8km run is the first of three events, so parking wasn't a problem, although it's a fair hike to the athletics track where the race starts and ends.
It was cold and dewy and I was still grumpy and then the organisers couldn't find my timing band so I had to queue in the lost souls department and then the bag lady (as I called the woman in the gear tent) was grumpy and took an instant dislike to me (or so I imagined) and... well, you get my drift.
Finally we're all set and at last get under way. I'm seeing blokes running in jeans and jumpers with kids in tow and a few fatties gasping and hacking their way at the back (where I'm also running) and I'm really wondering what I'm doing here - I could be running along the beach or in the mountains, or even better, still at home in bed asleep (sacrilege!).
So anyway, I'm just treating this as a training run - nice, steady 6 min kilometres will do me nicely, but I'm surrounded by people who clearly shouldn't be there. But then, hang on - it finally dawns on me - most of these people are wearing placards as well as race numbers commemorating lost mothers, wives, sisters and friends. Suddenly the guy running in jeans coaxing along two kids in warm jackets takes on significance. The fatties running with tears in their eyes aren't crying at the pain of the run, but in remembrance of loved ones. I stop feeling grumpy and begin to admire these people and then as I finally pull away from them on the hill climb just get on with my own race and begin to think about my own mum, dead 20 years this October.
To cut the story short, I ran a technically near-perfect run, beautifully paced and finishing in 47:35, a long way back in the field, a long way short of a PB, but really doing all that I was trying to achieve, so it was actually a good run. And it helped a worthy cause, so I was glad I made the effort.
And it wasn't all sombre commemoration. One wag had taken to the dog poo collection bins that dotted the course, changing the "d" of "dog" so that the sign above the dog poo bag dispenser now read "Please clean up after your jog". Made me smile anyway.
Despite knotted calfs (calves?) I eschewed the free massage this year (the queue was pretty long by the time I got there) so headed straight home for a second breakfast. The walk back to the car however was strangely moving. Hundreds and hundreds of people were arriving for the 4km walk and it was incredibly touching to see so many people either having been affected by breast cancer or at least moved to contribute on the day.
Having worked briefly last year with people who had been in a breast cancer cluster environment (13 cancers in a few years), I understand how prevalent the disease is. Even so, I was genuinely moved to see so many people rocking up for the event.
Oh, and I should mention the goodie bag. It was pink, not surprisingly. The finisher's medal was even pink (see pic) and it even had a pink Tupperware container, along with other fancy stuff. Pretty good for Australia, which generally doesn't do goodie bags.
Really well done, MLCM. It's great to see you get out there, doing some races. So often you've been on the verge of giving it all up, or giving the impression that you're resigned to doing your treadmill thing while everyone else gets on with, y'know, 'the real stuff'. So I'm genuinely absolutely delighted to see you not just take part in races but putting in very respetable performances. (I have to say that, as you seem to be around where I am, or at least where I was last summer, and where I need to get back to before I can think of improving.)
It will be good to have you as a training partner for your marathon preparation. I'm going for the 18 week approach instead of your 16, but with my event two weeks after yours, that puts us at the same starting point. This was a great way for you to kick off the campaign.
Tell us a bit about your training plan. Are you following something in particular? Do you have it all mapped out, or is it more ad hoc?
Good luck, whatever it is, and I'll aim to keep up.
El Gordo
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
Nice medal! after what sounds like a great experience.
Calfs? Calves? I never could work that one out. Publish and be damned I say.
When I finished my first FLM in 2003 I was somewhere between post-traumatic shock and complete exhaustion when I stumbled across a woman slumped on the floor sobbing massively into a mobby. On her back she wore a photo of a small boy and the motif 'For Christopher: Lost To Cancer'. I blubbed like baby as the penny dropped and a wave of guilt washed over me for the harsh thoughts I'd harboured for those older and even more wobbly than myself who had chosen to walk on the racing line.
I love you collection of tags beneath this post: adelaide, cross training, half marathon, spinal tap, start at the back
Only on RC
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
I'll toast you later, on me jacks in the boozer, eating my lunch - wondering what all the noise is about - Oh, yeah, Chelski or the Rowdies for the title.
Being a neutral i'll just hope for some kind of performance from the underdogs.
Heres to us running underdogs - achieving and striving just that little bit extra for that perfect run.
May Survive...
