February 2013

[Sweder]

Time to step up the mileage and get into some proper marathon training.

Park Life
Saturday saw a return to ParkRun. Despite my legs still feeling the impact of those hard Andalcian streets I cranked out a sub 23 minute 5k. I wore my old Mizuno WH3s. They are so worn they've turned into bespoke minimalist shoes, feeling pretty good over the short distance. Happily my legs didn't coil up around my ears like overwound springs. I even managed a gentle half mile lope back to the car.

Year Of The Snake
Yesterday I hooked up with Lycra Tony's group for an early outing from Brighton Marina. Some of these guys are well into their marathon stride, already hitting 18 miles. Too rich for my blood. The peloton were looking for a straight Snake 12. I opted for 15, joining Cam to run the Snake route, doubling back to add miles through Rottingdean, Windmill Hill, St. Dunstans and along the cliff tops into a fierce headwind. I pushed hard along the coastal trail, seeking 8 m/m pace. It was all but impossible on the upslopes, the cruel westerly swooping down to check our stride even as our feet spun in slick mud. I finished at 7'20", sweating, eyes rolling like a knackered old horse under the whip.

14.53 miles in 2'20". A fair effort after the trials of Almeria and tribulations of a week traveling to and from London at all hours. I'll need to ramp it up steadily from here.

On, on!

[Sweder]

A decent five mile workout this morning. Sunshine always makes a run feel better, even when a fierce westerly is trying to take your head off.

I hit some Fartlek on the outbound, charging up the hills, working hard into a rough headwind, recovering on the flat. On the way home I bashed out a couple of tempo runs, 5 minutes at 7 m/m followed by 2 minutes 30 at sub 6'30" pace. That last one saw a return of the tight hamstring so I eased up and jogged the last half mile. I'll have to keep an eye on that.

Track du jour: U.F.O.'s 1978 classic, Rock Bottom, featuring some exquisite lead guitar work from Michael Schenker

A rest day tomorrow, more hill work on Thursday, Parkrun on Saturday and 15+ miles on Sunday. And so a training pattern emerges.

On, on!

[Bierzo Baggie]

I wore my old Mizuno WH3s.

aren't they the new ones?

Enjoyed your Almeria report. These are the races you get attatched to and attend year after year and it becomes a bit like visiting the family at Christmas! I've always said I'd try and get down there one year but it ain't easy for me in January. Hope your mum's OK.

[Sweder]

I wore my old Mizuno WH3s.

aren't they the new ones?.

Ha! No, I have a shiny brand new pair and an old-ish (holed) pair. My really old ones went the way of all flesh last year. Current line-up:

- Old WH3 (blue & yellow) - hanging on in there
- Ancient Mizuno road boots bought in Connemara before the Ultra - knackered
- New WH3 (Black with lime tinges)
- New Ascend 7s (red, likely to remain unworn)

I'm in the market for a top road race shoe for Brighton. This may well turn out to be the Mizuno road equivalent of the WH3, a minimumal cushioned, lightweight shoe that I would keep for Brighton, P2P and Almeria 2014 only. Sounds a little indulgent perhaps, but I see the sense in that plan.

Thanks re: Mum. Every day she makes a little progress. We hope to get her home later this week or early next. She will need an awful lot of care. Luckily we're a caring bunch.

[marathondan]

You're really flying with those times Sweder. All the ingredients seem to be there - hill work, tempo, fartlek, long ones. It's all coming good at the right time. The timekeepers of Brighton should be afraid. Do watch that hamstring though.

Also I seem to recall last year's lesson learned was "road miles". Will you be planning a few long runs on the black stuff?

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Ahem, yes, quite right Dan, there are some road miles needed there, Sweder. Remember Brighton last year and the p*a*i*n. Not necessary to repeat that. Maybe you ought to re-read your race report?

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Although I suppose we must classify Almeria as roadage...

[Sweder]

Although I suppose we must classify Almeria as roadage...

That Almerian track seems particularly hard on the legs. Something to do with the surface being solid concrete as opposed to the more forgiving Tarmac used on UK roads.

My Sunday runs already include an a mile or two of roadwork. Parkrun is all concrete, too. I have no plans to complete a road-only long run (2 hours plus). There's a real split amongst our Sunday group. Those who always work road miles into their running week, those who prefer absolute joint preservation until raceday. I've pitched my hillside tent in Camp Wimpout. My lack of leg injuries in recent years suggests this is a better path for me. Cue Mr Sheehan ... and yes, I'm ready to take all sorts of abuse when I'm back on here in April whining about the hellish battering dished out out in Brighton.

Perhaps the lesson learned was not 'run more road miles' but 'use ibuprofen during the race'. I didn't (use anti-inflammatories) before, during or after Almeria, or Brighton last year. Schoolboy error.

[Sweder]

Maybe you ought to re-read your race report?

That's excellent advice. How many of us do that when a seasonal fixture looms? It's a good idea, one I shall think and act on. But not now. The sun is shining, it's Thursday, so I should be out running.

[Sweder]

A somewhat truncated session in the spring sunshine. Time, rather than anything physical, was the enemy today. A mile warm-up then a series of eight brutal 'sprints' uphill, 30 seconds eyeballs out, 30 second recoveries. The renegade hamstring kept a low profile.

I'm trying to make these midweek sessions count. That is, to avoid simply jogging miles for the hell of it by setting a specific workout target. Even the last mile was useful. I set my body upright, extending my neck, chin down to stretch my spine, focused on shortening my stride and landing mid-foot. I found I could hold 8 m/m quite comfortably. I suppose this is something like Pose running/ Chi running. Perhaps a little less refined, but the benefits are tangible. This morning I could feel my midriff wobbling as my core held me in place. I'll have to re-start the Belly Shred workouts to knock that on the head.

The only run of the week where these rules don't apply is Sunday. That's strictly a long run, time-on-your-feet hills outing. Perceived wisdoms suggests pushing the pace up for the last mile or two - race pace, in my case around 8m/m - to simulate marathon running on tired legs. I'm down with that, so long as there are no malicious twinges lurking.

   

On, on.

[marathondan]

Sounds like a great workout. I did something similar myself - albeit with reps around 2 mins - en route to a 10K PB a few summers ago.

There's gold in them thar hills.

[Sweder]

Seeking atonement after slaying his own children in a fit of rage, Heracles, son of Zeus, was advised by the oracle Pythoness to take himself to Tyrins and serve King Eurystheus, undertaking any duty the King should set. Any one of the Dodekathlon dreamt up by Eurystheaus would have crushed the will of a mere mortal. It is the fifth, The Augean Stables, that resonates with me after Sunday. It's rumoured that after completing the seemingly impossible task of mucking out a prodigious herd of cattle in a single day (then slaying the owner, Augeas, for welching on their deal) Heracles went on to found the Olympic Games. Reason enough, you might think, for a runner to mark this particular labour above all others. Not quite ...

Having battled a violent north easterly wind along the cliff tops (intent, it seemed, on driving us straight back to Brighton), climbed Telscome Tye, traversed Somme-like water-filled trenches and scrambled up the unforgiving, rain-lashed North Face, we gathered ourselves for the The Field of Bovine Incontinence. Millennia after Heracles cleaned up some of those feckless Augean cattle set up an enclave just below Breaky Bottom Farm. (Yes, really). There they stood, massed about a large feed station, surrounded by an ever-expanding ocean of gently cooling effluent.

There's probably a number of ways we could have circumnavigated this foulness. In reality, as the weather closed in on this Jog-Shop-Jog-lite, the only feasible line between A and B was a straight one. Beyond the field of filth lay the Yellow Brick Road, a mile and a half of ribbed concrete climbing the eastern face of the downs. From the summit we'd turn for home along the downland spine, drop down through Castle Hill Nature Reserve into Death Valley, scale the two-mile Snake and head homeward across the Racecourse to finish in East Brighton park. And so, on - and in - we plunged.

Less than 24 hours earlier I'd been fortunate enough to take my good lady to the matinee of Top Hat, the London show celebrating the movie of the same name. Fred and Ginger danced into our hearts, light as feathers, talent oozing from every pore. Now, as I hauled my frozen bones through unrelenting, shoe-sucking slime, I got my Fred on. Light, quick steps, leave no mark, flit across the surface, dance on air ...

I gave it my best shot, arms out for a balance, tip-toeing through the gloop, breathing shallow as the pungent stench rose. The cattle lowed, lazily turning their heads, chewing steadily as we splattered past. Gasping like stranded fish we reached the far side, catching our breath before slithering on through more fields of heavily churned soil.

   

As the YBR unwound the wind howled, driving spiteful spikes of freezing rain into our faces. Our group of five soon became three. I felt out of my league, hanging on to the other two as we fought our way across the top of the Big W and on up Castle Hill. Perhaps they felt the same. Now and then one of us would take point, bent into the maelstrom, pushing the pace. Mercifully the wind got behind us, driving us on up the Snake, our feet scrabbling for purchase. By the time we'd hop-scotched our way through another mile or so of waterlogged track to reach the Racecourse I'd recovered some of my strength. The park plummet proved perilous, slip-sliding at sub 7'30" m/m pace along a tiny, winding mud trail cut into the steep hillside. My arms flailed for balance like a tightrope walker in a gale. At last terra firma, the grass bank that runs alongside the football pitches and leads back to civilisation. I pushed as hard as I could, hammering my soaking, aching legs, gulping for air as I raced towards the road.

16.68 miles in 2 hours 40. One of the toughest outings for some time, one that left me glowing and grinning. I truly love these hard runs.

[marathondan]

Sounds like it was worth a lot more than 16.68 miles in terms of effort. Great work.

For the record, which shoes do you recommend for running through cowshit?

[Bierzo Baggie]

Sounds like it was worth a lot more than 16.68 miles in terms of effort. Great work.

For the record, which shoes do you recommend for running through cowshit?

The new, Mizuno Shit-Spoiler 7s are rather good so I've heard. Or failing that, wellies.

Great effort in the mud.

I actually like cowshit. It's dogshit that you want to avoid...

[Sweder]

Sounds like it was worth a lot more than 16.68 miles in terms of effort. Great work.

For the record, which shoes do you recommend for running through cowshit?

Why, the Mizuno Muckspreader Three, of course.
No finer shoe for navigating rivers of filth

I enjoy these missions far more than the races (and probably more than I should). As I've said many times before, perhaps I should simply drop the road-based nonsense altogether, feast on the smorgasbord of rough-terrain races. There's plenty of them.

[marathondan]

I also heard that Vibram will be bringing out a calf-length gaiter for those who really want to connect with the pats beneath their feet.

Re road vs off-road... Sweder, I guess all you need to do is bag a PB at Brighton this year, then you'll never need to run another road race again (except Almeria)

[Sweder]

Re road vs off-road... Sweder, I guess all you need to do is bag a PB at Brighton this year, then you'll never need to run another road race again (except Almeria)

Very much on my mind, yet I don't want to need a PB.
Therein lies despair.

[marathondan]

Re road vs off-road... Sweder, I guess all you need to do is bag a PB at Brighton this year, then you'll never need to run another road race again (except Almeria)

Very much on my mind, yet I don't want to need a PB.
Therein lies despair.

No, you need to want to need a PB.

Or is it want to need to need a PB?

Might be simpler to declare that Brighton 2013 will be your last road marathon for now, and take to the hills thereafter?

If you do miss out on the PB, yes there may be a tinge of regret, but it will be tiny compared to the potential adventures that lie off the beaten track.

Not that you will miss out on the PB.

[Antonio247]

Congratulations on that tough run and in that weather, S.

I think that a PB is something that everybody likes but the important thing is to be motivated enough to go for a run regularly and be lucky to avoid injuries.

Saludos desde Almería.

[Sweder]

Sat on a London-bound train when I should be in the rain-soaked hills. The story of what has become a step-back week for me. Tuesday I managed a short sharp recovery run, throwing in a soupçon of Fartlek. I may get out tomorrow morning or Saturday (ParkRun 50) But neither is certain in this most uncertain of times.

Sunday sees a return to a favoured old haunt, the Seven Sisters 9. I plan to meet up with Tom Roper of this parrish and any others who wish to join us for a leisurely lope across the fabled humps, on up the Cuckmere valley and through Friston Forest. Depending on my condition after that I might add on a couple of Sisters at the end to take the mileage closer to 13.

A rather weary on, on.
Here's to better form next week.