Far From Flabby February

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Sometimes, short slow runs are the hardest.

In the middle of a hot, humid Sydney summer, neither mad dogs nor Englishmen will you see running the streets during the day. Only the early morning and night time hours are suitable for donning the running kit, so what is a night shift working middle aged bloke with only the hottest, mid afternoon hours available for running to do?

Well, yes, of course, he jumps on Thunder Road and completes his scheduled run anyway, madness coursing through his veins or not*.

Actually, this self-imposed torture got me thinking, at least as much as my befogged brain allows me to think at the moment. After a string of night shifts, the body feels and moves like bruised blancmange. And the brain? The brain functions not at all. And yet, after a kilometre or two, a sort of revelation cracked open the shutters of my noggin and allowed some revelatory light in.

I've always believed that there really aren't any "junk miles". They're all important, and if they seem of little relevance, it's only because you have run so many of them that your resultant fitness allows them to seem so. But stop running them and suddenly you will have no such easy efforts. And it goes doubly so for me at times because I often schedule "easy" (junk)  miles when the work/life schedule is too chaotic to permit a long or tough run. Such as in the middle of, and particularly at the end of, a string of night shifts. And it occurred to me that these are some of the hardest runs to do, because (a) you least feel like running them at all, and (b) because (and this was the revelatory bit) they are the generally short easy "junk mile" runs it actually feels justified to skip them. This is a dangerous thing to do, as a skipped run leads me all too frequently to the slippery slope of motivationlessness, and of course the quicksand death of the training schedule.

And so this little piece of insight saw me reaching for the speed control and winding it up to race pace and making the bugger count, which was odd, because a "short easy" was all the schedule demanded, and all that was really required or even sensible considering the conditions, both in terms of weather and my mental and physical state. But perhaps there is a bit of the mad dog in me after all.

Ah well, what the hell. A good run was entered into the spreadsheet and smug mode engaged.

God, this running game is good.





P.S. Oh, and just to prove that Aussies are just as mad as anyone else ... perhaps more so, here's today's TdJ:



And should you need some help understanding what this song is about:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_Under_%28song%29


*Madness is, of course part and parcel of the MLCMM make-up.

[Bierzo Baggie]

Reckon you should just call it Bruce!

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Reckon you should just call it Bruce!

BB, your innate understanding of the human, i.e. Springsteen, condition, is astonishing.

Henceforth, Bruce it is.

 

[Sweder]

Yeah, Bruce is cool.
Bruce was also the name Speilberg gave the mechanical Great White in JAWS.
I reckon it should be B.R.U.C.E., as in H.A.L.

Now all you have to do is figure out the details of the acronym ..

[marathondan]

Beatific Running Under Controlled Environment

Big Rubbery Undulating Conveyor Engine

[Bierzo Baggie]

Better Runs Using Cadence Enhancer

Boring Running Unless Completely Elibriated (or should that be "inebriated" ...hic..)

[Sweder]

Better
Run
Unless
Cloning
Endorphins

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

In recognition of the ultimately brutal and controlling nature of H.A.L., Bruce shall be known for the acronym:

Better
Running
Under
Controlled
Environments.

With thanks to Dan, who was closest to the judge's final decision and is therefore our tournament winner!

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I have another three runs to report since my last entry, a sapping, nearly-didn't-get-it-finished 8km toughie, a long slow 14km that went well but left me sore and tired, and today's zippy little 5.4km effort up in the mountains of Arcadia (actually the Blue Mountains, but it was damned nice).

The first of the three was a street run and surprisingly tough to complete. To tell the truth though, I probably set myself up for a bad run following my overly optimistic smugness after my previous run which went so well.

The long slowie was done on sore, tired legs, but completed well enough. I was shocked, and genuinely so, upon entering it into my running log to discover it was my longest run in 21 months! I mean, good God, I knew last year I had been a little slack, but I didn't realise my decrepitude had lasted so long. Nothing for it therefore but to roll up the sleeves and get stuck in again and try to make amends.

The making of amends however was going to have to wait an extra day, as sore quads and shin ligaments (whatever they are called) were serious enough to require an extra days rest. A weekend of R&R at the family cottage in the Blue Mountains was just the ticket, and this morning a 5.4km jaunt in the cool mountain air proved that everything was right again. Mission accomplished: rested and recuperated. Time now to move on.

The long slow run scheduled for later this week has stretched out to 16km, and with race day currently just a tick under six weeks away, this is about where I wanted to be. Sore legs or not, I am pretty much on schedule and having a blast, so it's looking good. I just need a few more hills to be feeling really good about it all.

Oh, look what I have right on my doorstep ... hills!

Sigh.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Adventures of a Night Runner


It is 25 degrees Celsius, the humidity is sitting at 80% and it is 3:30 in the morning. I am in my running kit, standing outside my house glugging water and telling myself to get on with it. Well, in truth, it didn't take too much self talk to see me heading off into the night. I had actually been looking forward to the testing six kilometre hill repeats session I had scheduled myself for this morning. Any hesitation was merely the result of the unexpected warmth and humidity, and perhaps just a slight nervousness about the toughness of the challenge.

Five laps of the circuit I call "Burgoyne" after one of the streets on the 1.3 km loop circuit from my house shouldn't present too much of a challenge if I'm fit and had done some hill work. While it is true that I am a lot fitter now than a few weeks ago, I have not done a lot of hill work, and I'm up at 3:30 because I haven't slept properly since waking at 1 a.m. and had finally given up trying, albeit just fifteen minutes before my alarm would have woken me anyway to get this run done in time to catch the 5:09 to work.

Each lap has two hills, a short one of just 120 metres or so from my house up to Park Avenue, and a longer, tougher one of 280 metres about half way around. They're tough, honest enough hills at the best of times, but this morning, in warm, muggy conditions and with me unwisely wearing one of my warmer running tops, it makes for tough going. I do complete my five laps, but I return home sweating a waterfall and being very grateful for the extra few minutes my earlier rising allows to recover sufficiently before getting ready and catching my train. There can be no doubt however that this has been a honest little session, and I commute into the city feeling very pleased with my night time exertions. Ten hills, six kilometres and one smug middle aged bloke runner. Not a bad way to start a working day.

Two days prior had been a far more modest short, easy run of no great note other than it kept my schedule intact. I now have just one more run for the month to come, the 16 kilometre long slow effort on Sunday morning. This will necessarily be another early outing as I again have to work, though nowhere near as early as today, so hitting the road around dawn will work just fine. Whilst it will be long and slow it won't however be an easy run as I've already set my mind on a tough, hilly street circuit that I ran frequently in the past but which hasn't seen my footfall for a little over three years now. It will be an interesting, and possibly slightly terrifying reunion.

The body is feeling good (touch wood) ... the cautious approach is paying off.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Up an hour before dawn to get today's scheduled long, slow run out the way before the worst of the heat kicks in. Today I'm using the Camelbak and consuming gels as part of my distance training. The gels aren't really needed for a 16km run, but I want to start training my stomach to digest food whilst on the move, just in case I do run another marathon this year. It's fair to say that the most debilitating aspect of my marathons to date has been the inability to take in food and therefore running out of fuel somewhere beyond 30km. This needs to be addressed, and it begins today...

This time I'm following the manufacturer's advice and consuming a gel before I start the run, to get the gut interested, as I read somewhere in Sweder's blog once. So, properly hydrated and with an out-of-date but still foul-tasting (and therefore presumably okay) Gu Jet Blackberry gel in my stomach I head out for the brute that is my 16km hilly street run. The hills begin straight away, and come at frequent intervals, the very worst one at bang on 10km, and which is the steepest hill I ever run anywhere. It's always a "why do I do this?" killer, and yet for some reason I've never once been slowed to a walk on this one. I can only think because it's such a brute, my determination not to cave in somehow gets the job done, whereas lesser hills have defeated me many times. Huh, go figure, although I should add that while it hasn't brought me to a walk, my actual running pace would make a lazy three-toed sloth blush, so is nothing extraordinary by any stretch of the imagination. But still, running of a sort, it is. I take my second Jet Blackberry gel and try to recover as the road flattens out.

As the sun comes up, the heat increases and I'm glad for starting early. It's Sunday morning, so the streets are also pretty quiet and I can concentrate on my actual running instead of dodging dog walkers and motorists. I therefore keep my pace in check and get the job done, tested but not over-taxed, and able to smile and exchange clear greetings with the many other runners out there this morning, instead of the more usual croaky, wheezing, guttural squawking which too often gives away my complete lack of fitness and/or having gone out too fast.

I'm happy with this effort. My longest, and hilliest run in ages, and completed with considerable effort, but not too much difficulty, if you get my meaning.

Back home I quickly don the recovery compression skins and take two precautionary, preventative ibuprofen tablets to help dissuade any muscle soreness. I'll let you know how well that works, but in the past it has always amazed me how good those darned skins are at preventing the dreaded DOMS.

So that's my last run for February, and my first 100+ kilometre month for ... well, way too long. It feels great to be back. I really do feel a few races this year will definitely be attempted.

[Bierzo Baggie]

That 100k target is a good one. It's when you start to feel that things are getting serious...
Good progress, especially with the hills. A bit concerned that you haven't mentioned beer for a long time though....

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

That 100k target is a good one. It's when you start to feel that things are getting serious...
Good progress, especially with the hills. A bit concerned that you haven't mentioned beer for a long time though....

I like to think of 30km/week as my base fitness level, and I'm not quite there yet, but homing in on it. Then the jump to 50km/week makes a huge difference, but that is a serious effort when you are only allowed by your physio to run every second day (and to which I acquiesce as it has resulted in a dramatic reduction in injury).

As for the beer... you need have no fear. There is beer aplenty in my training diet.

Oh yes.

[El Gordo]

Sweating on the boss.

With the temperature nudging 30C and the humidity rising to continuous sweat point, it was with grateful heart that I took to my trusty treadmill Thunder Road in the relative cool of indoors for today's scheduled short run......

........Speaking of which, it's about time the boss was given his due. Today's TdJ is another beauty, and the song from which my treadmill has taken its name. At least, until something better comes along.

Oh, before we get to that, I should mention that today's run completed a 33km week for me; my first 30+km week of training for way too long. It's good to be back!

One evening in 1975, my older brother staggered in, late one night, and told me he'd just seen the greatest gig of his life. This was some claim as he was a veteran of the Isle of Wight festivals -- including, in 1970, one of Jimi Hendrix's very last performances.

"This guy will burn himself out", he croaked. Go and see him somewhere while you can. He's called Bruce Springsteen." But I never did.

Then a month or so ago, 2016, I was sitting at home one rainy Saturday evening, and read on some expat forum that Springsteen was appearing the very next day in Zurich. Unbelievably, there were some standing tickets still available, and about 20 hours later, I found myself standing there, watching one of the best gigs ever. 

Without a single break, The Boss played for 4 and a half solid hours, And unlike Dylan, who gave up years ago, despite still touring non-stop, Springsteen's renditions of all his greatest songs sounded note perfect, including the vocals. He performed with the passion of someone who was just starting out, or as if it was the last gig he would ever do, and wanted to give it his all. I can barely remember a gig delivered with such energy and conviction. Just on the 4 hour 15 mark, we finally had Born To Run. Placed end to end, that song had kept me going through countless hours and countless slogs along towpath and track and pavement and treadmill. It was enough. My life felt complete. I ran for my tram, brushing the tears from my cheeks as I went. 

It had taken 41 years, but I finally made it.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Thanks EG, that's a tremendous story. I don't recall you ever mentioning an older brother before (though that is more than likely just my poor memory). You really are enigmatic ... and a fine story teller.

Cheers!