After two long months without a race, there's finally an opportunity to don my racing shoes again. Not only is it a chance to race again but it's the first cross-country meeting of the season, marking the start of competition over my favourite running surface.
There's something different and special about running in the mud, the cold and more often than not, the rain. I love the challenge of it - the more mud and the bigger hills we encounter, the better. It's great to just put your head down and work hard, no lap times or mile markers to worry about, no time comparisons to see how you rank, just you against the course and the opposition on the day.
It's been my longest break from racing whilst uninjured since I was in the junior ranks. I've really enjoyed training hard each weekend and throughout the week, without worrying about easing back for races. As the time has gone on it’s become harder and harder to stop myself from racing in training, be it on my own or during my group workouts. I've found myself comparing my performance during my speed sessions to others in my group, which has been slightly unhelpful. You can never really tell what's going on in training. People will have done varying amounts of training during the week, leading to different levels of fatigue. Or you, or they, may be holding something back, be it due to injury or not wanting to push to the limit, but in a race everything is even, you give your all and see what 'your all' equates to.
With the race on Saturday my coach reduced the mileage for the week slightly, and replaced my Thursday tempo run with just an easy forty-minute run, hoping that my legs would feel fresher and my body stronger. This should mean that I have better tools with which to put in a good performance come race day.
My last hard session was on Tuesday. It was my groups first winter speed session, run on the roads of South West London. What the local residents think is happening when twenty odd people arrive at the corner of their street, and begin to undress to the point of it becoming indecent, god only knows. We all then disappear into the darkness, returning five minuets later, hot, sweaty and gasping for air, repeating the process another five times.
Thankfully we were able to complete the session of five times a mile loop without the police being called! I felt ok during the run, not spectacular but not disastrous. I always like to hold a little more than normal back during my final quality workout before a race. I like my legs to feel strong right to the end, and feel as though there's more to give. So I spent the evening at the back of the group, controlling my efforts in the hope it would leave my body in a better state for the race.
The rest of the week was fine. Just steady state runs and lots of stretching, massaging, (sadly self massage!!), and ice baths. I was a little concerned on Friday as I always like to do the same off road three mile loop the day before a race. I run it really slowly and like to feel my legs bouncing along, and to get that urge to push on. But I felt a little flat, and my legs felt a bit heavy and fatigued. I also always do three thirty second bursts, thankfully my legs felt good when travelling at race pace so my mind was put somewhat at ease.
Race, Division 2 Surrey League:
My legs still didn't feel as fresh and bouncy as I would have hoped for on race day. But mentally I felt great, I had my spikes on, the sun was shining and five months of cross-country fun lay ahead of me.
I got a reasonable start to the race. As the course turned on to a narrow path, I was eager to get towards the front quickly. I was in fifth place as we ran down a twisting path and felt comfortable. I could see the leaders weren't getting away and was content to sit until we reached some playing fields at the bottom of the hill. I moved up to the three leaders, two of them team mates, and just sat behind them to see what would happen. The group was down to three as we climbed the hill back to the start. I was still feeling comfortable and my confidence was growing. I was revelling on the twisty pathways through the woods and felt in control of what I was doing. I decided to let my opponent from our opposing club make any move on my team mate. We'd been lead round at a good pace so why challenge it.
At the top of the hill our opponent picked the pace up and it was down to two, I was glad in a way, as it meant I could be more ruthless. Until this point neither of us had made the running, but as it was my team-mates that had pushed the pace for half the race I felt I could just sit on my opponents' shoulder and wait and see what he did. I shadowed him as we continued at a good pace back down to the playing fields, and began the climb back up the hill to the finish. The pace was good as we wound our way through the narrow paths. On the final wide climb as I pulled level, a little game of cat and mouse began. I knew I had a good kick, but was also wary, as I had been beaten by the same competitor in a sprint finish on the track. However, I but I still felt unbelievably strong which gave me the confidence to wait. We reached the top of the hill with four hundred metres to run, and he made the first move. I quickly responded and didn't feel he'd put me into any difficulty. I waited on his shoulder and hit the gas pedal with one fifty to go. I don't think I've ever sprinted so fast! I knew I had enough to sustain it to the finish which I did finishing a couple of seconds ahead.
A very pleasing start to my season. I was really encouraged by how strong and controlled I felt throughout, and at how good my finishing kick was, something I thought I'd lost. The races start coming thick and fast now, and I'll probably moan about not having a weekend off, but if they all go as well as this one did I’ll have very little to complain about.
Monday 27 October 2008
Monday 13 October 2008
Training Mon 22nd September - 5th October
I finally let greed get the better of me. I tried to do too much and it came back to bite me. I fell into the trap I had avoided so well for the last four months. Having followed my coaches set weekly schedule to the letter since we started working together, I suddenly decided to add an extra mile here and there to his plan, to push harder on the steady runs, all in order to get that little bit extra from my training. Which all ultimately ended with my body breaking down under the pressure, and me missing time away from my trainers, tucked up in my sick bed.
Tuesday’s track session on the 23rd September was the start of my gradual downfall. I felt so good as the session began. For the first time my legs weren't that little bit fatigued from my previous training runs. I was feeling bouncy and I felt like I was skipping over the ground as we begun the session of 1600 metres, 1200m, 800m, 1200m, and 1600m. So I pushed myself that little bit faster than planned, hoping to take full advantage of how good I felt. I reached the halfway point, still feeling ok. In the back of my mind I knew the extra few seconds per lap I'd taken off my planned pace might take an effect. I began to struggle a little with the final 1200m rep. I was unable to help push the pace, I had to rely on the pace setting of another group member, as I hung on and actually lapped at the planned pace, ten seconds down on my previous 1200.
I then completely switched off. I was fatigued and concerned about my pace for the final rep. Then the athlete I was training with decided to call it a day as a precautionary measure due to a sore Achilles tendon. I fell further back, and dropped more time each lap. I relied on another member of the group, who had only just started training after a break, to get me round. Without him I don't know what would have happened, but I would have been even further off of my first 1600 metre time, which was thirty seconds down as it was.
Far from learning a lesson from my over exuberance, I set about doing the same thing again on Wednesday. Having completed an easy thirty minutes in the morning, as set, to recover from my track session, I decided to do 60 minutes rather than the set 50 in the evening. Not that much difference, but I also decided to push on the pace, so it became more of a long tempo run rather than a steady turn over of the legs.
The next day I was tired. My legs were heavy and it took a lot of will power just to get out of bed. I had no “get up and go”, and the set 20-minute tempo that was waiting for me filled me with dread. It wasn't going to be pretty! I felt like I was running slower during just twenty minuets of tempo running than I did in my hours run. Every hill I came to felt like Mount Everest. I got it done, then spent the entire steady evening run with my club at the back, not saying much, dreaming of my bed and Friday’s rest day.
Friday came and went, but when it came to Saturday’s session, I felt no better. I was tired, my legs were stiff and heavy, and I was beginning to feel the early stages of a sore throat coming on. Needless to say I struggled. It was a simple session of three times ten minutes, a basic session set by my coach because he was unable to be at the training session. It was a shame he wasn't there. I'm sure he would have seen that I was working hard and getting nothing back, that my body was struggling and that I was tired and needed to ease back. I'm sure he would have told me to take Sunday off and to ease back for a couple of days. Instead I rose early for the pre planned 90-minute morning run. I felt dreadful the whole way. I don't know why when I woke up feeling worse than when I shut my eyes I didn't pull out. My legs hadn't recovered and my throat had become worse, I had a headache and my sinuses were beginning to block. I guess my eagerness to improve got the better of me. I wanted it all, and didn't take note of the clear signs my body was giving me, a clear case of the craziness of the long distance runner!
So I spent the next four days in bed, feeling sorry for myself. Itching to get back into my running shoes, but more than aware that I had to give my body time to recover. I made mental notes not to deviate form my coach’s plan - he's set it for a reason so why change it. I also needed to stop blinkering myself from the signs that my body is breaking down. Maybe I see them as a sign of weakness, that I need to work through it, but there's a difference to pushing a tired body and an exhausted body. After all by pushing to much in the hope of the gains it would give me over my rivals in races, I lost four days of training, rather than just the one it may have taken for me to regain my strength.
Thankfully I took note before it became anything more than a cold, and I was back in light training before the week was through. Lesson learned me thinks!
Tuesday’s track session on the 23rd September was the start of my gradual downfall. I felt so good as the session began. For the first time my legs weren't that little bit fatigued from my previous training runs. I was feeling bouncy and I felt like I was skipping over the ground as we begun the session of 1600 metres, 1200m, 800m, 1200m, and 1600m. So I pushed myself that little bit faster than planned, hoping to take full advantage of how good I felt. I reached the halfway point, still feeling ok. In the back of my mind I knew the extra few seconds per lap I'd taken off my planned pace might take an effect. I began to struggle a little with the final 1200m rep. I was unable to help push the pace, I had to rely on the pace setting of another group member, as I hung on and actually lapped at the planned pace, ten seconds down on my previous 1200.
I then completely switched off. I was fatigued and concerned about my pace for the final rep. Then the athlete I was training with decided to call it a day as a precautionary measure due to a sore Achilles tendon. I fell further back, and dropped more time each lap. I relied on another member of the group, who had only just started training after a break, to get me round. Without him I don't know what would have happened, but I would have been even further off of my first 1600 metre time, which was thirty seconds down as it was.
Far from learning a lesson from my over exuberance, I set about doing the same thing again on Wednesday. Having completed an easy thirty minutes in the morning, as set, to recover from my track session, I decided to do 60 minutes rather than the set 50 in the evening. Not that much difference, but I also decided to push on the pace, so it became more of a long tempo run rather than a steady turn over of the legs.
The next day I was tired. My legs were heavy and it took a lot of will power just to get out of bed. I had no “get up and go”, and the set 20-minute tempo that was waiting for me filled me with dread. It wasn't going to be pretty! I felt like I was running slower during just twenty minuets of tempo running than I did in my hours run. Every hill I came to felt like Mount Everest. I got it done, then spent the entire steady evening run with my club at the back, not saying much, dreaming of my bed and Friday’s rest day.
Friday came and went, but when it came to Saturday’s session, I felt no better. I was tired, my legs were stiff and heavy, and I was beginning to feel the early stages of a sore throat coming on. Needless to say I struggled. It was a simple session of three times ten minutes, a basic session set by my coach because he was unable to be at the training session. It was a shame he wasn't there. I'm sure he would have seen that I was working hard and getting nothing back, that my body was struggling and that I was tired and needed to ease back. I'm sure he would have told me to take Sunday off and to ease back for a couple of days. Instead I rose early for the pre planned 90-minute morning run. I felt dreadful the whole way. I don't know why when I woke up feeling worse than when I shut my eyes I didn't pull out. My legs hadn't recovered and my throat had become worse, I had a headache and my sinuses were beginning to block. I guess my eagerness to improve got the better of me. I wanted it all, and didn't take note of the clear signs my body was giving me, a clear case of the craziness of the long distance runner!
So I spent the next four days in bed, feeling sorry for myself. Itching to get back into my running shoes, but more than aware that I had to give my body time to recover. I made mental notes not to deviate form my coach’s plan - he's set it for a reason so why change it. I also needed to stop blinkering myself from the signs that my body is breaking down. Maybe I see them as a sign of weakness, that I need to work through it, but there's a difference to pushing a tired body and an exhausted body. After all by pushing to much in the hope of the gains it would give me over my rivals in races, I lost four days of training, rather than just the one it may have taken for me to regain my strength.
Thankfully I took note before it became anything more than a cold, and I was back in light training before the week was through. Lesson learned me thinks!
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