February has arrived! Better late than never. My first run for 12 days last night. And Im glad to report that it wasnt just to book some miles on a training log (as if), but because I simply HAD to get out. The days of being able to feel the wind in my hair are long gone (to paraphrase Dilbert: to do that, I have to take my shirt off and run around with my arms in the air) but that was the effect that I craved to get close to the elements, to feel the familiar rhythms of lungs, heart and feet.
I did play football earlier in the week (9-7 win for the B team, one goal to me) but its not the same. As Bierzo Baggie recently alluded, thats something of a headless chicken activity. Theres none of the controlled, contained, smoothly continuous workrate that is required of a comfortable training run.
So anyway, Id been looking forward to it all day, and it didnt disappoint. My usual 4.5 mile suburban circuit, taken in reverse always a nice way to revitalise a tired route (funny how you never realise how long the downhills are until you do them the other way ). Afterwards, with the promise of a luxurious lie-in until 6 am (Ive decided the 5 am starts are bad for my health) I was sufficiently energised to do an hour or sos glosswork in my sons nearly-finished bedroom.
As always, the concept of being energised by running is a strange one. Most people would expect the natural reaction to be to fall into bed, knackered. To me, one of the great joys of running (training, at least) is knowing ones capabilities and running within them, rather than just running oneself ragged.
Somehow I doubt that the weekend will provide further opportunities, but we shall see.
marathondan Wrote:(funny how you never realise how long the downhills are until you do them the other way )
Ain't that the truth, brother Marathondan.
My run yesterday was technically uphill for 5 miles . . . except the return had loads of little uphill bits too.
And I agree with the energised stuff . . . my Missus hates me even more than usual during the 2 hours after a good downland thrash; fizzing she calls it, as in 'bloody hell, your Father's fizzing again'.
High as a kite I call it - she's just jealous . . .
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
Running opportunities have been few and far between, and, having even missed football this week (due to VD), I was desperate to get out. So a train journey to work, with runs to/from home/station/office, in both directions, was too good a chance to miss. 11 miles total, across four legs. This is a love-or-hate-it routine that I generally used once a week during marathon training a nice route and potentially an endorphin-laden start to the day, but a hilly slog, invariably with a rucksack, and at 5.20 am on an empty stomach, Im not exactly at my best.
Still, I took it steady, the moon was out, and it all went fairly well. For all we go on about how great running is, I maintain that the ultimate truth is that the best bit is when you stop. That first half-hour or so afterwards is a great way to start the day.
Tonight will be the same in return rather more downhill, but invariably a tempo run to avoid missing the train. Maybe I should try and do this once a week things are always easier to stick to if theyre fitted into a routine, and at my current training level, an extra 11 miles a week isnt to be sniffed at.
Goring 10K, 26th Feb - the theory post-FLM was to enter a few 10Ks and try and break 45 mins. After almost a year of near-inactivity, and on a hilly course, that ain't gonna happen, but it will be interesting to see if the marathon training has provided any long-lasting benefits. Football may have helped slightly as well.
Reading Half, 9th April - this will probably be an experiment in getting round a half without blowing up, on less than 10 miles a week. I've no idea what time I could achieve on such low mileage; I'll have to do my best to concentrate on just enjoying the day.
One of my most successful running days in recent history, both in terms of experience and miles banked. I say experience rather than enjoyment the days running wasnt exactly pleasurable, but it certainly produced a more interesting slice of life than sitting in a car.
I left my meeting at 16:00, still fully clothed, as one tends to be in meetings, in order to get to the 16:41 train, four miles away. I was away from the office about 16:09, and set off at a steady clip. It wasnt until about 10 minutes in that I realised I was going to really, really struggle to make the train. So really, really struggle I did. It was a pretty good foretaste of next weekends 10K, although I intend to prepare slightly better for that than doing a days work beforehand. Until I could actually see the station, I was pretty convinced that I was really going to miss the train. I arrived, relieved, with the station clock looking suspiciously like a race clock, showing 16:39.
Sixty seconds later, I had emptied my rucksack onto the forecourt and was desperately trying to find my ticket. I began to eye the queues for the ticket machines when the errant ticket appeared, and I made it down to the platform just as the train arrived. Time was 5 minutes quicker than in the morning.
As we all know, the ideal way to recover from a four mile tempo run is to sit immobile for half an hour. So when I alighted for my final 1.5 mile uphill stage, my legs and hips were creaking. I had somehow omitted to do any stretching all day. The first hundred yards or so were painful, but having got over the initial steep uphill I found a comfortable recovery pace and was able to open my stride and stretch my hamstrings a little.
So, 11 miles banked, very satisfying. Goring 10K is next Sunday, so I guess I ought to make the effort to get out maybe Sunday and Thursday, plus football on Tuesday, in some semblance of preparation. The race season is underway!
No, the 9 minutes included getting changed. It was like superman in a phone booth. Including emerging clad in red and blue lycra. But underpants inside, you'll be glad to know.
Thank God for small mercies, Dan.
I must say the running from work thing is admirable and a great way to include mileage in a busy schedule. Sadly I live 30 miles from my office, linked by a stretch of Sussex all but bereft of public transport. Otherwise I'd love to burn off the frustrations of a day strapped to my PC with a handful of healing miles.
Good work fella
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
The public transport for me isn't good enough for daily use, but once a week isn't bad. As you suggest, the after-work session is a great relief from a sedentary day.
Out for a routine suburban 4.5 miler around the block last night in the hope of some late preparation for next weekends 10K. Im sure the benefit will only be mental, but theres nothing wrong with that. It was raining steadily I love going out on nights like this, especially Sunday nights in a perverse way, because theyre the kind of nights when all sane people are curled up on the sofa watching telly.
I came in some three minutes outside the usual time normally a cause for concern, but fiddling with mp3 player and jacket (the rain abated halfway round) probably accounts for half of that. And Im not used to running with audio; I reckon that without that distraction I would have concentrated on my pace more and shaved off another minute or so.
Ive been amazed at how few aches Ive had from last weeks 11-mile four-legger. I suspect my well-being is more to do with missing football than anything else. Still, I intend to be back out there tomorrow night, then one more run Thursday-ish.
A pleasant off-road lunchtime jaunt today, as final preparation for Sundays 10K. It had snowed all morning, wet and not settling, so I was slightly disappointed that it stopped around 11.30. Nothing like a good blast in the snow. On the other hand, I was concerned that packing only t-shirt and shorts last night had been a little foolish although at least I was sensible enough to throw in cap and gloves. However, as usual, once I was up to operating temperature then I was toasty, and the cap even had to come off.
I explored a little of the nearby stretch of the Grand Union canal, and the local beauty/murder/cottaging spot, Horsenden Hill. The latter was very steep and very muddy; I had to drop to walking pace several times to avoid going spectacularly A/T. It wasnt so much the indignity I was afraid of, more the risk of pulling something just before a race. Although I would have looked quite a sight returning to the office caked in mud.
So three miles, some relaxing scenery (although Greenford is no Bierzo well actually in some respects I guess it is, but the opportunities for escape are rather more limited), plenty of moorhens, and a satisfying mud-spattering, limited to the lower legs only. Lovely.
A couple of other guys from the office, that I only know by sight, were out doing a similar route, and I bumped into them three or four times and ended up getting back at the same time. They kindly advised me which shower they were going to use, and that I should get the key for the other one.
"What, do you share?" I was about to quip, when they added " yes, we always share."
I think the company running club may be a little too close-knit for my taste.
PS Im not used to hills. I can feel my calves and Achilles tightening already.
PPS cross-training update: a hard-fought 6-5 win for the "B" team on Tuesday night, against the bottom team in the league. (They were quite useful, but like the fumble-fingered dog-handlers beloved of the Two Ronnies' news slot, they seem to have trouble holding onto a lead.) Again, bollock-shrivellingly cold, but again, my elevated heart rate provided remarkable central heating.
Ah, the off-road bug strikes . . .
when those tightened hammies calm down you'll be back Dan, mark my words!!!
I'm envious in the extreme - fabulous offroading weather today, hardly a breath of wind and heaps of magical snow all over the shop. So where was I?
Chugging up and down on the effing Gatwick Express (singing the local version of the Devine Comedy hit all the way there and back). I did enjoy a brisk walk through Battersea Park, evoking memories of a freshly-shaven-headed Peter Gabriel supporting the Stranglers at an open air gig in '78.
Happily no cottagers on display, FFC related or otherwise
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
It's the team of the Borough Church of St Andrew and St Mary Magdalene, Maidenhead. Oh yes. The A team is St Mary's and the B team is St Andrew's.
St Andrew's have a catchup game tonight (I'm not playing) against the bottom side, and then last game of the season tomorrow against the 2nd place team. Win both and we'll nab the 2nd spot, and promotion. St Mary's (2 divisions higher) can do no better than mid-table.
It's a really impressive set-up at Powerleague, they must run about 30 matches, every weeknight, every week of the year. They supply decent referees (mostly), trophies at the end of the season, and they can cope with problems like one squad entering two different divisions and the resulting fixture clashes... and remarkably, it only works out about £5 a head per match.
My first race for over six months. Part of a short season to try and regain some running momentum before baby arrives and spare time goes out the window for a few months. The PB stands at 46:39, recorded in a flat Regents Park in ideal conditions, but before I became a marathon runner. Last year I hoped to break 45 minutes off the back of my marathon training, but my running dwindled to almost nothing and the opportunity didnt arise. Now, with only around 5 miles a week averaged for 2006, and probably less for the second half of 2005, would those months of marathon training have had any long-term effect? Taking this into account, plus a good half a stone in weight and an apparently "testing" course, I hoped for around 48 minutes, but would have been content with anything under 50.
The course did indeed turn out to be testing after the first 50 yards I dont recall a single section that could be called level. We wound around a few hilly streets of the village of Goring, then out onto hilly bridleways between hilly fields, with a few hilly country lanes thrown in. It was quite a picturesque route the most pleasing parts being the open countryside where the running field could be seen stretching out into the distance. Thats always a favourite moment of mine.
I didnt feel great initially, but around 4K, in the middle of an open countryside section, it all seemed to click into place. I think it was a combination of the "first mile is always crap" rule (or 2.5 in this case) and the fact that wed just turned away from a brisk headwind. Either way, at that point I felt like I was racing rather than struggling. As regards the "first mile is always crap", Ive never been brave enough to warm up for more than about a quarter of a mile for a 10K maybe it would be of benefit?
Anyway, long story short, hills hills hills. After a slowish start, I seemed to be holding a couple of minutes under 5 minute Ks, so all well and good. I couldnt be bothered to do the detailed maths. After about 6K, I was trying to keep pace with/burn off/pass people, with varying degrees of success. The time flew by, and before I knew it we were back in Goring. Having heard cheering nearby, the heartless route planners took us past the playing field of finishers, up another bloody hill at the top of which I was close to the vomit zone then into the top of the playing field for a final lap. That would be the sloping playing field of course, with the penultimate quarter lap uphill and, mercifully, the home straight on the level.
I stepped on the gas into the final hill, sprinting like never before. I didnt realise at the time, but I went into 1/1 breathing, which over 100 yards or so seems to be the way to go, and produced unexpectedly good results. The attached finish photos are somewhat frightening. I didnt spot the finish clock (my head was down ) but I stopped my watch on 46:01. It took a minute or so to compute that this was a PB. That really was absolutely the last thing I was expecting.
So, marathon training really does cause a lasting change to the body. But how long will it last? The challenge is to get back into good habits, dont let that fitness fade get rid of that half stone? and then try to shave off that final 61 seconds.
Overall, a very well-organised day changing tents, medal, Mars bar, Gatorade, official photographer, and even a playground and some kids activities for the 45 minutes until Daddy/Mummy (hopefully not both) is due back, all for reportedly around 1000 runners. Plus an excellent selection of local pubs; we stopped for lunch in Pangbourne, where the re-hydration was courtesy of Messrs Greene King. I have to confess that this resulted in a nap later in the afternoon. Rock n Roll.
PS in the background of the official finishing photo, you can see a green-clad lady who I would guess is a super-vet, who proved to be my pacemaker for most of the race. In the red mist of the final sprint, I hadnt realised Id vanquished her. Take that, old lady!
