A drugged fuelled runner... it has come to this. Not wanting to miss a Herd run last night, I popped two Ibuprofen and headed out the door. I chose to run with the mid-runners, a perfectly formed group of four, two of whom are running a six mile hilly race tonight, so wanted to take it easy.
We ran up Chapel Hill and headed to the North of Caburn allowing us to sweep back along the tops and down Malling Down to bring it home past Pells Pool and over Rotten Row. All in, a 6.4 mile jaunt at a pace I could only dream about on Sunday. Pleasingly the drugs did their work and the legs felt OK.
Track night on Thursday beckons. I hate track night.
(17-05-2017, 01:21 PM)Seafront Plodder Wrote: If I had been able to give out water with any sort of efficiency at the Seaford last Sunday you'd have been a lot quicker.
Knock 5 minutes off your time, my treat.
Well you can't be expected to insult the runners and hand out water at the same time. Something has to give.
I received an email mid-morning from the Herd Leader setting out the evening’s torture. I run in group 3a (this is an important point which I will come back to later) and the plan was simple. 10x 400/100-meter compound sets. For those of you who don’t understand such things (i.e. you’re not stupid enough to go track running) this means that we run 400 metres at a 5k pace, and then speed up to a sprint pace for the last 100 metres.
Another important piece of information in this jigsaw of torment, is that for group 3a, the 5k pace is 22:00 minutes, or 1:45 minutes per lap. In my language, this works out at a pace of approx. 7 min/mi. By the time you’ve done 10 of these, the body is starting to smart a little.
The last bit of information required here, is the weather. It started pissing down around lunchtime, a full on delude that lasted well into the night. This meant that quite a few of the usual track running crowd suddenly discovered other things they needed to be doing. We were pretty thin on the ground. Thus, it was decreed that we would only have two groups. There would be a group 1a (seriously fast runners – 1:25 mins per lap); and a group 3a (because the Boss had run a race the day before and was happy to take it steady). Just the ticket I thought.
But then we started.
The first lap we ran at a 6:40 pace. Somewhat quicker than planned. I mentioned this to our esteemed leader... he just smiled and pointed out that I had kept up. But of course, he would ease back, muttering something about how difficult it was to adjust his pace downwards.
Lap two came in at 6:28. This is taking the piss… so not being one to moan… I mentioned once again that we were running somewhat faster than group 3a should be at this point in the proceedings.
I wish I’d taken the time to fully appreciate the joy of the second lap, as it was the last soddin’ time we ran at such a pleasant pace. The next lap was at 6:19 before we went on to hit a glorious 6:16. Having completed lap 8 at 6:23 I decided to call time. I couldn’t breath and my legs had actually fallen off.
But not being one to give up, we went again. This time I pulled back and only managed a 6:47 pace (almost embarrassingly slow, but still quicker than the 3a group was meant to be running). Having hobbled around lap 9, I clearly had to finish the set. The last lap was the quickest of them all. The bastards made me do it in 6:11.
We walked to the pub.
It took four beers to even start the recovery process. As we left the pub it was still pissing down, and now cold… so I ran home.
(19-05-2017, 07:48 AM)Charliecat5 Wrote: ...this means that we run 400 metres at a 5k pace, and then speed up to a sprint pace for the last 100 metres.
(19-05-2017, 09:26 AM)Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man Wrote:
(19-05-2017, 07:48 AM)Charliecat5 Wrote: ...this means that we run 400 metres at a 5k pace, and then speed up to a sprint pace for the last 100 metres.
Whoa there; 5k pace is sprint pace.
Isn't it?
It is for me.
I realised quite early on that the 5k pace, is not actually a pace I could run 5k in. I can however, run a couple of times round the track at that pace. Interestingly (and when I say 'interestingly' I mean horrifyingly) they made us run a track mile a few weeks back. I came in at 6:47. Which I didn't think was that bad considering the state of my glutes at the moment. Having said that, my glutes might not be in the state they are, if I didn't do stupid things like running a 6:47 min/mile.
This morning I have done the sensible thing (I know) and emailed a physio to set up an appointment to sort my legs out. The Twitten Kitten will be very surprised to hear this.
Is this REALLY the CC5 I know and love?? (well, 1 out of 2 ain't bad) ;-) Forgive me for coming late to the party, I'm catching up this morning.
In seriousness (and probably reading later posts will give me a bit of an answer) I hope you are ok. It's no fun being in pain and that interfering with the stuff you want to do *hugs*
Edit: I LOVE the photo from the Seaford Half :-)
... Take the National Express when your life's in a mess / It'll make you smile ...
(24-05-2017, 08:48 AM)twittenkitten Wrote: This morning I have done the sensible thing (I know) and emailed a physio to set up an appointment to sort my legs out. The Twitten Kitten will be very surprised to hear this.
Is this REALLY the CC5 I know and love?? (well, 1 out of 2 ain't bad) ;-) Forgive me for coming late to the party, I'm catching up this morning.
In seriousness (and probably reading later posts will give me a bit of an answer) I hope you are ok. It's no fun being in pain and that interfering with the stuff you want to do *hugs*
Edit: I LOVE the photo from the Seaford Half :-)
Don't worry... normal madness continues... just because my butt cheeks hurt, doesn't mean I've stopped running. In fact Sunday heralded a new chapter in stupidity... with OATR and I doing a five mile trot over the Downs before a very fast and furious Twitten run. One that meant spending the rest of the day walking like John Wayne.
(24-05-2017, 08:48 AM)twittenkitten Wrote: This morning I have done the sensible thing (I know) and emailed a physio to set up an appointment to sort my legs out. The Twitten Kitten will be very surprised to hear this.
Is this REALLY the CC5 I know and love?? (well, 1 out of 2 ain't bad) ;-) Forgive me for coming late to the party, I'm catching up this morning.
In seriousness (and probably reading later posts will give me a bit of an answer) I hope you are ok. It's no fun being in pain and that interfering with the stuff you want to do *hugs*
Edit: I LOVE the photo from the Seaford Half :-)
Don't worry... normal madness continues... just because my butt cheeks hurt, doesn't mean I've stopped running. In fact Sunday heralded a new chapter in stupidity... with OATR and I doing a five mile trot over the Downs before a very fast and furious Twitten run. One that meant spending the rest of the day walking like John Wayne.
Oh, thank fuck for that. The world continues on its course and all is as it should be ... ;-)
... Take the National Express when your life's in a mess / It'll make you smile ...
The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits (albert Einstein).
The pre-run Twitten run thing is becoming a thing. I have for some time now harboured an ambition to run to the infamous Blackcap before the Twittens, and this morning we did it. I met with OALR at 7:55 on the nail so we had time enough to achieve this madness and make it back to the Twitten start line for 9am. It was a glorious morning, misty but hot as we set out on the long climb to the top. 2.5 miles of uphill slog. My good friend struggled to find his stride for the first mile, but was soon back on form with the crest in sight.
With little time to stop and enjoy the view we swung around and ran it back into town, stopping briefly to call for Sweder… who ignored our advances from the depths of his duvet.
On arriving at the start of the Twittens, we realised to our horror that we were the only ones there. The result was an unseemly quick and furious foray up and down the Lewes streets. We covered the first half in 15 minutes, before turning back to finish the return in 20. Legs and lungs exhausted as we fell up the steps into Ground Coffee. All in all, by the time I’d jogged home, we’d completed 10 bloody tough miles.
On the recommendation of the esteemed God Farther of running himself (Mr Tom Roper), I have just finished the book: There is no map in hell by Steve Birkinshaw. The book recounts his successful attempt to complete all the Wainwright peaks. 214 of them. At the age of 45 he ran 320 miles and ascended 36,000 metres in six days and 13 hours, beating the record set by Joss Naylor in 1987. I think the works out as the equivalent of 5 Bob Graham rounds over the six days, but at a faster pace.
It was a really inspirational read and has made me very hungry for the lovely fells. I must get up there this year. I have also resolved not to moan as much when running over the Downs. Well a little bit less anyway.
(29-05-2017, 11:16 AM)Charliecat5 Wrote: At the age of 45 he ran 320 miles and ascended 36,000 metres in six days and 13 hours, beating the record set by Joss Naylor in 1987.
(29-05-2017, 11:16 AM)Charliecat5 Wrote: At the age of 45 he ran 320 miles and ascended 36,000 metres in six days and 13 hours, beating the record set by Joss Naylor in 1987.
Hmmm. I didn't see a huge amount of running.
I downloaded the whole film, and tend to agree. He mostly sat around and winced at people doing things to his blisters. Well I could that!
(29-05-2017, 11:16 AM)Charliecat5 Wrote: At the age of 45 he ran 320 miles and ascended 36,000 metres in six days and 13 hours, beating the record set by Joss Naylor in 1987.
Hmmm. I didn't see a huge amount of running.
I downloaded the whole film, and tend to agree. He mostly sat around and winced at people doing things to his blisters. Well I could that!
I'm sure you COULD but please don't ... ;-)
... Take the National Express when your life's in a mess / It'll make you smile ...
