So yet again I've managed to get to the final and biggest race of the season in far from top form. A week off sick is never a good thing in an athlete’s life, but two weeks before the race I'd been aiming at and training for (for nearly five months), my timing is less than perfect.
I struggled with my coach as to what to do training-wise this week. I'd wanted last week to be really hard, with a lot of mileage and some quality sessions.
Instead I was in bed struggling to keep dry toast down. I wanted to really ease back for the race, letting my body recover so I could be at my best. Instead I had to get some runs in to get back my fitness and to rebuild my confidence.
It was tricky. I was still recovering my strength from the illness, so getting the balance was key. Too far or too hard and I'd be tired come race day.
Not enough and I feared I'd be found wanting by the pace required to be competitive.
On Monday and Tuesday I attacked my key training sessions relatively hard considering it was only a few days before a massive race. We changed my usual morning thirty-minute steady run into a tempo session. Ten minutes warm up, ten tempo, and then ten warm down. I actually felt quite good. My stomach problem had passed and I had some strength in my legs compared to my race on Saturday. It was a step forward but completing a ten-minute tempo run is miles from completing a ten kilometre cross country race against the best in the country. With a track session on Tuesday night and energy conservation my top priority, easy runs on Monday night and Tuesday morning were completed. They were so slow I hardly broke sweat and was over taken on a solo training run for the first time in years!
With a number of my training group taking part in the race on Saturday the coach broke the session up. We started with 1200's followed by three 400's then the same again. I worked the longer reps, building my confidence. I felt OK and then flowed round the 400's, letting my legs turn over at a good rate, but at no stage did I want to push myself into severe oxygen debt. I knew with a weakened body it would take me longer than normal to recover and time wasn't on my side. I was reasonably happy with the way things were going. I would have liked to have been able to save myself more, but having had a week off I knew I needed to remind my body how to deal with hard work.
From now until Saturday it was just a case of easy running and a few strides to keep the legs ticking over. I focused on being positive. I'd had the best winters training I've ever had, which had to count for something. I put my feet up as much as possible and tried to tell myself that last week was a chance for my body to rest up, and for my legs to repair themselves, rather than let the illness become an overbearing negative.
The day of the race arrived and I was as excited as I was nervous. I was feeling good and was focused solely on my race and forgot all about my less than perfect preparations.
The Inter Counties in Nottingham have a special atmosphere. With numerous age group races going on throughout the day there is always something happening.
Sky TV cameras add a bit of spice to it, and everyone that's there is there because they are the best in their County. All season you run for your club in open races that anyone who wants to can enter but to run here, you have to be selected. It makes you feel special, like you've achieved something already.
As well as focusing on my race as an individual I was also very aware that my county, Surrey, were in with a very good chance of winning a medal in the team race. With nine runners in each county starting out and only six to score I was going to have my work cut out just to make the team.
We all lined up in our starting pen decked out in the gold of Surrey. Annoyingly, due to my poor luck with illness this season when it came to the big races, I was at the back of the pen. As I was the last qualifier from the County Championships, where I'd suffered with a cold, it was going to be a tricky start.
The gun went and it was a charge up the first hill. Runners quickly swamped me and the crowd dictated my pace. I would have liked to have run at my own pace and have taken closer order from the gun but I couldn't. Part of me wanted a steady start after my poor race build-up. It would give me chance to get into my stride, find my pace and ensure that I didn't go off too hard and use up all my energies.
I felt comfortable but could see I was falling behind where I had wanted to be. Having come well outside the top one hundred last year, I'd set a target at the beginning of the season of 50th. After half a lap I was able to dictate my own pace. I started to move forward slowly. I guess I must have been outside the top 200 after my start and surveyed the field for other Surrey runners to gage how I was doing. I could see a group of four Surrey boys but they were well ahead. I was dismayed. They'd gone for it from the off, weaving in and out to get up well inside the top 100. I'd played the safety card, possibly my lack of fitness and fear over my staying power and lack of strength meant I was happy to settle into the pace of the crowds that engulfed me.
I continued to make progress through the field. I was running reasonably well, but I knew it wasn't well enough. Something was missing. That little bit extra I'd been training for all winter wasn't there. My legs felt reasonably strong but I didn't have the speed and endurance I'd wanted.
Up ahead I had glimpses of my teammates with whom I'd raced all winter. I knew where I should be in relation to them but I wasn't. Yet again I'd missed my chance and all because of food poisoning. The way I was performing showed I was in great shape; I was just outside of the top 100 in the UK. But my reserves had been depleted by my illness. I think I was fooling myself that I could have run to my true potential. How can I perform to my best so soon; after losing half a stone in body weight, after having my energy stores so thoroughly depleted, after having my training routine completely disrupted. As I finished all these things went through my head.
Part of me told myself I was making excuses. It's part of the game to get yourself to the line in the best shape possible. I'd failed at that. But my excuse was valid. If it had been just a single day off sick or a cold maybe I would have been making excuses. I was just absolutely gutted. 107th and eighth Surrey scorer. I'd missed out on a team bronze, which didn't make me feel great. It seemed like the rest of the guys I'd been dicing with all season had got to the start line in great shape. 7th, 14th, 43rd, 60th, 63rd, 64th 74th. I should have been in the middle of that lot. 107th felt like nowhere.
On Sunday I didn't run. I needed time to put things into perspective. 107th was much better than last years performance. I'd performed well when I didn't have the best tools. When I look at what my teammates did, it shows me what I can do, and it puts me in the mix.
Running can be a cruel sport. I'd put six months into one race and illness made it seem as though I shouldn't have bothered. But I've had success leading up to this point. The work I'd put in won't be wasted. I just have to change my goals and come back fighting. I want to move up to the Marathon and be more competitive over the shorter distances on the road.
The Inter Counties will come round again next year, and I'll have another chance to prove myself. If I can improve as much as I have done this year all this will be forgotten. With running there's always another race, another chance.
Thursday 23 April 2009
Wednesday 22 April 2009
Monday 23rd Feb - Sunday 1st March
Food! I love food. I love running because it requires me to consume vast quantities of food! Up until now it has been a good friend of mine. It makes me stronger and picks me up from the lows of exhaustion. However, food kicked me in the guts this week, literally.
I like a treat, and after a long Sunday I feel I deserved a treat. A nice piece of cake found it's way into my grubby paws. I wolfed it down, it didn't taste as good as it might have but I thought nothing more of it as I moved onto my staple diet of a big bowl of cereal.
On Monday morning I was up early and completed a simple thirty-minute run. I felt OK and there were no sign of what was to develop. As the day wore on I began to feel a little odd. I was tired and lethargic. I was a little light headed and had a slight aching in my stomach. I completely lost my appetite and when this happens I know that something's wrong.
The time for my scheduled evening run arrived. I was racked with guilt as I declined to put my trainers on deciding instead to get an early night hoping that it would all just pass with a little rest.
It didn't pass.
Half way through the night I was up - my head down the toilet. It wasn't fun. I can't remember the last time I was sick. I like to pride myself in having a strong stomach but tonight something had well and truly weakened it.
I was up and down all night, but at the back of my mind was the fact that at least my body was ridding itself of the troublesome bug and that I would be quickly be back on my feet.
I was wrong.
I'll save you the details but for the rest of the week I didn't like to venture more than a short dash from the toilet. I couldn't seem to shift whatever it was that was irritating my stomach. I was still eating, aware that I needed to keep up my strength, and drinking well, ensuring I wasn't dehydrated. But it was all very bland, water and dry toast.
By Wednesday evening I thought I was on the road to recovery and with a race on Saturday I knew I needed to eat some proper food so I stood a chance of making the start line.
It was the last league match of the season. My club Epsom & Ewell Harriers were in the running for promotion to Division One. To compete in Division One next year would give me stronger competition every weekend and will hopefully prepare me more for the bigger cross country races, when every second counts, which are sometimes a shock to the system when I'm used to cruising to victory. I knew I had to run if we were to stand a chance of promotion. I had a decision to make. Did I miss the race to ensure I was rested and recovered for the final remaining race of this season, the Inter Counties, or did I race to help ensure that next season I had the competition to make my whole season as strong as possible.
Eating normal food didn't go down too well with my stomach. I was almost back to square one. I paid my doctor a visit. I explained the situation to her and rather than just advise rest and no or minimal food as I'd expected, she advised me to eat normally until my race on Saturday, compete if I felt able, then fast for twenty four hours. Giving my stomach a rest and hopefully enabling it to recover and return to normal.
So I carried on as normally as I could. As I wasn't running I didn't have to consume the same levels as I would normally, just enough to keep my energy up.
Friday came round and I was still unsure of whether to run or not. I decided an easy twenty minutes to test everything out was a good option. I felt dreadful, but I didn't need to nip into the bushes, which was my biggest fear. I would race and keep my figures crossed that I could pull something out of the bag.
The race was in Lloyd Park in Croydon, my favourite cross-country stomping ground. It gave me a bit of confidence that I felt so at home racing here. I hoped it would add an extra string to my depleted bow.
I did a minimal warm up. I would use the first mile to warm up properly, the less running I could get away with the better. My goal was to make sure I finished and that I did so within the top ten. No point in taking all the risks I had and not completing the race. At no point was I going to take the lead. If I was in contention I would leave it till the last stride if possible to hit the front. I knew I wouldn't have much energy for the race or my recovery post race, so saving as much as I possibly could was key.
The race started and I settled into a pack in around twentieth place. We hit the first hill and it felt like Everest. I had no power in my legs. I knew it was going to be a long hard slog and that I'd need to play to my strengths if I was to get to the front and really help my team's push for promotion.
Up hill was hard, but down hill was no problem. I could stretch out my legs and chew up the ground on the leaders without wasting any energy. I managed to use the first two down hill sections to move up to fifth. On the flat I felt reasonably comfortable and my group of five moved clear of the field. Up the next hill the two leaders, one a team mate, the other from a rival club vying for promotion, moved away. I managed to stay with the rest of the group then moved onto the back of the leaders down the next hill.
I was actually enjoying the fact I was running under such tough circumstances; it added a strange spice to my race. I was running with less pressure on me to win. I could just concentrate on running a tactical and sensible race.
We finished the first lap as a group of three. I was stalking at the back, unwilling and unable to take on the pace. I decided to alter my pre race aim. I was clear in third and as long as my teammate won, I'd be content with third. But I wanted an Epsom & Ewell victory, so my mission was to stick to my opponent and react only to what he did.
My teammate Phil made his move early on the last lap. He managed to open a gap on us and I was content to let him go. By this time I was finding the going tough. I was really lacking any energy. My aerobic capacity was fine but my legs just felt empty and drained.
Up the next steep incline I was dropped. I had no response and resigned myself to finishing third. The gap grew to a hundred metres quickly. I managed to recompose myself on the flat and stayed within watching distance of the action in front. Suddenly I noticed my teammate faltering. The gap to second was quickly eaten up. I woke myself up and decided to make an attempt to catch back up if I could.
My competitive spirit had got the better of me. If we finished second and third instead of first and third it would make little difference to whether or not we were promoted. I just felt that if I could win feeling like I did it would be a great confidence boost for when I got myself back to 100% fitness.
I caught my teammate who'd fallen behind the leader and started to slowly claw back the gap to first. Up the final uphill drag I neither gained nor lost any ground. It was all down hill to the finish now. I began gaining and with one hundred metres left I made contact. I went for it straight away. Anything I had left I gave and it was just enough. After an initial tussle I pulled a few metres clear in the last few strides. Of a five-mile race I'd only spent ten metres in the lead. But they were the ten metres that counted!
I was shattered and my warm down was a dash to the Portaloo!
I refuelled that evening then set about a twenty-four hour fast. I was actually feeling a little better post race. Like I'd finally blown away my bug. But I took no chances and rested up, 'Doctor's orders'.
Now it was about recovering my depleted energy reserves to ensure that for the final and biggest race of the season I had a chance of being competitive. I hoped I'd made the right decision by running. We'd gained promotion for next season but had it come at a cost? I'd soon find out, as there's no hiding place at the Inter Counties Cross Country Championships.
I like a treat, and after a long Sunday I feel I deserved a treat. A nice piece of cake found it's way into my grubby paws. I wolfed it down, it didn't taste as good as it might have but I thought nothing more of it as I moved onto my staple diet of a big bowl of cereal.
On Monday morning I was up early and completed a simple thirty-minute run. I felt OK and there were no sign of what was to develop. As the day wore on I began to feel a little odd. I was tired and lethargic. I was a little light headed and had a slight aching in my stomach. I completely lost my appetite and when this happens I know that something's wrong.
The time for my scheduled evening run arrived. I was racked with guilt as I declined to put my trainers on deciding instead to get an early night hoping that it would all just pass with a little rest.
It didn't pass.
Half way through the night I was up - my head down the toilet. It wasn't fun. I can't remember the last time I was sick. I like to pride myself in having a strong stomach but tonight something had well and truly weakened it.
I was up and down all night, but at the back of my mind was the fact that at least my body was ridding itself of the troublesome bug and that I would be quickly be back on my feet.
I was wrong.
I'll save you the details but for the rest of the week I didn't like to venture more than a short dash from the toilet. I couldn't seem to shift whatever it was that was irritating my stomach. I was still eating, aware that I needed to keep up my strength, and drinking well, ensuring I wasn't dehydrated. But it was all very bland, water and dry toast.
By Wednesday evening I thought I was on the road to recovery and with a race on Saturday I knew I needed to eat some proper food so I stood a chance of making the start line.
It was the last league match of the season. My club Epsom & Ewell Harriers were in the running for promotion to Division One. To compete in Division One next year would give me stronger competition every weekend and will hopefully prepare me more for the bigger cross country races, when every second counts, which are sometimes a shock to the system when I'm used to cruising to victory. I knew I had to run if we were to stand a chance of promotion. I had a decision to make. Did I miss the race to ensure I was rested and recovered for the final remaining race of this season, the Inter Counties, or did I race to help ensure that next season I had the competition to make my whole season as strong as possible.
Eating normal food didn't go down too well with my stomach. I was almost back to square one. I paid my doctor a visit. I explained the situation to her and rather than just advise rest and no or minimal food as I'd expected, she advised me to eat normally until my race on Saturday, compete if I felt able, then fast for twenty four hours. Giving my stomach a rest and hopefully enabling it to recover and return to normal.
So I carried on as normally as I could. As I wasn't running I didn't have to consume the same levels as I would normally, just enough to keep my energy up.
Friday came round and I was still unsure of whether to run or not. I decided an easy twenty minutes to test everything out was a good option. I felt dreadful, but I didn't need to nip into the bushes, which was my biggest fear. I would race and keep my figures crossed that I could pull something out of the bag.
The race was in Lloyd Park in Croydon, my favourite cross-country stomping ground. It gave me a bit of confidence that I felt so at home racing here. I hoped it would add an extra string to my depleted bow.
I did a minimal warm up. I would use the first mile to warm up properly, the less running I could get away with the better. My goal was to make sure I finished and that I did so within the top ten. No point in taking all the risks I had and not completing the race. At no point was I going to take the lead. If I was in contention I would leave it till the last stride if possible to hit the front. I knew I wouldn't have much energy for the race or my recovery post race, so saving as much as I possibly could was key.
The race started and I settled into a pack in around twentieth place. We hit the first hill and it felt like Everest. I had no power in my legs. I knew it was going to be a long hard slog and that I'd need to play to my strengths if I was to get to the front and really help my team's push for promotion.
Up hill was hard, but down hill was no problem. I could stretch out my legs and chew up the ground on the leaders without wasting any energy. I managed to use the first two down hill sections to move up to fifth. On the flat I felt reasonably comfortable and my group of five moved clear of the field. Up the next hill the two leaders, one a team mate, the other from a rival club vying for promotion, moved away. I managed to stay with the rest of the group then moved onto the back of the leaders down the next hill.
I was actually enjoying the fact I was running under such tough circumstances; it added a strange spice to my race. I was running with less pressure on me to win. I could just concentrate on running a tactical and sensible race.
We finished the first lap as a group of three. I was stalking at the back, unwilling and unable to take on the pace. I decided to alter my pre race aim. I was clear in third and as long as my teammate won, I'd be content with third. But I wanted an Epsom & Ewell victory, so my mission was to stick to my opponent and react only to what he did.
My teammate Phil made his move early on the last lap. He managed to open a gap on us and I was content to let him go. By this time I was finding the going tough. I was really lacking any energy. My aerobic capacity was fine but my legs just felt empty and drained.
Up the next steep incline I was dropped. I had no response and resigned myself to finishing third. The gap grew to a hundred metres quickly. I managed to recompose myself on the flat and stayed within watching distance of the action in front. Suddenly I noticed my teammate faltering. The gap to second was quickly eaten up. I woke myself up and decided to make an attempt to catch back up if I could.
My competitive spirit had got the better of me. If we finished second and third instead of first and third it would make little difference to whether or not we were promoted. I just felt that if I could win feeling like I did it would be a great confidence boost for when I got myself back to 100% fitness.
I caught my teammate who'd fallen behind the leader and started to slowly claw back the gap to first. Up the final uphill drag I neither gained nor lost any ground. It was all down hill to the finish now. I began gaining and with one hundred metres left I made contact. I went for it straight away. Anything I had left I gave and it was just enough. After an initial tussle I pulled a few metres clear in the last few strides. Of a five-mile race I'd only spent ten metres in the lead. But they were the ten metres that counted!
I was shattered and my warm down was a dash to the Portaloo!
I refuelled that evening then set about a twenty-four hour fast. I was actually feeling a little better post race. Like I'd finally blown away my bug. But I took no chances and rested up, 'Doctor's orders'.
Now it was about recovering my depleted energy reserves to ensure that for the final and biggest race of the season I had a chance of being competitive. I hoped I'd made the right decision by running. We'd gained promotion for next season but had it come at a cost? I'd soon find out, as there's no hiding place at the Inter Counties Cross Country Championships.
Monday 6 April 2009
Monday 16th Feb - Sunday 22nd Feb / Nationals
This week the National Cross Country Championships were being held in their spiritual home of Parliament Hill on Hampstead Heath.
I love the National. Runners from all round the UK, of all abilities, set out for some quality racing with individual goals and hopes for the race. The men's race is a great sight, with nearly two thousand runners racing in their club colours and Parliament Hill has got to be the biggest cross country test of them all.
Undulating is a polite way of describing the course. A bit muddy doesn't do justice to the ranges of underfoot conditions you face. The mud can be like an ice rink or like quick sand and you never know what you are going to encounter.
I really wanted to put in a solid performance. So far this year things haven't quite gone my way in the big races for one reason or another and although my confidence had taken a few knocks, I still had faith that I was training better than ever and that at some point I would surely see the fruits of my labour.
It's always difficult to know how to tackle the week of training leading up to a big race like the National. It wasn't my main aim for this season - that was to come in a couple of weeks. But it is an important race and it's definitely a race that needs to be respected. To go into it shattered from a really hard weeks training would be madness. You'd soon be found out because if you sneeze, you lose a dozen places, so it's important that you feel confident that your body is strong enough to tackle seven and a half miles of fast, testing cross country racing.
Over the past eight months, since working with my coach Robin Dixon, a lot of the worry of how to tackle weeks like this has been taken away from me. I discuss with him what I want to achieve overall in a season and what I want to achieve in each individual race. He then sets about guiding me in the right direction so I can achieve my goals and perform at my best when I need to. Obviously certain things alter your plans and illness and injury are factors which will always change the path of your season and how you approach certain races. However, with Robin directing me, I now only have to focus on each session he writes out for me, rather than being constantly distracted by the thought of what I will be doing tomorrow or next week or next month.
So we decided that this weeks training would tail off towards Saturdays’ race, but only slightly - enough to give me a bit of bounce in my step but not so much that I compromised future races.
Monday was 30 and 40 minute runs which were tackled at a steady pace. Tuesday morning was a couple of miles to stretch out the legs. The evening session on the track was an initial 1200 metre rep, which I worked hard on, helping to push the pace as we lapped the track in around 72 seconds. This was enough to make me feel like I was working. The second part of the session was three sets of 4 x 400 metres. This is where I backed off saving some gas for Saturday. I was lapping around 70 seconds striding out as much as I could but staying close to my comfort zone. I didn't want to feel the lactic burn in my legs, that my heart was going to burst out of my chest or that my lungs were going to explode! I was working but I knew I could always pick the pace up if I needed to. The racing takes place on Saturday not on Tuesday night.
Wednesday was cut back considerably from the hour plus runs I'd been completing to just 20 and 40 minute easy runs. Thursdays tempo was cut to just 6 minute bursts within a 50 minute run, with a hours slow plod in the evening and Friday was just my usual pre race 20 min jog with strides.
I felt good going into the race. My legs were reasonably rested and the way I'd run on Tuesday gave me confidence as I'd shown myself during the 1200 that I was running well and in the 400's, although at the back of the pack, I wasn't finishing miles of the pace and this, without giving my all.
Race day and the gods were on our side. The sun was out and there was no breeze to speak off. This didn't fool me and after a quick look round the course, 15 millimetre spikes were placed in the bottom of my shoes. Mud, mud and more mud, the more grip I could get the better.
The race begins with a charge up hill for 400 yards or more. I decided to play a waiting game and relaxed for the first mile. It's all too easy to get caught up in things and push too much too soon. I set about getting into some sort of rhythm, which was difficult on a course that is so undulating and with so many changes in underfoot conditions. I was feeling good after a lap but was outside the top hundred. My goal was to finish in the top hundred. I pushed on at the start of lap two and was passing people consistently. At the half way point I was in around 100th place and still felt confident and full of running but just wasn't able to give as much as I felt I had. I was working hard but just lacked that edge, that extra five percent, which can make such a difference.
I knew I was capable of being much further up the field but yet again I couldn't realise it. I continued to work through on the last lap finishing in 89th place.
I was relatively satisfied. It was my highest placing in a national cross country race and shows that this year I'm running at my best. But it was one of those races where I feel I could have achieved so much more. The top 50 was by no means an impossibility. I know I have the potential to do it, the way I'd run told me so. It was a solid banker race. Unspectacular but another box was ticked and I remain convinced things are going to come together soon.
I've got the drive and motivation like never before. My long run on a Sunday is a great example of this. It's no longer a drag. I can't wait to put in the miles; it's made me stronger psychologically as well as physically. Even after racing over seven miles the day before doesn't stop me now. Previously, I may have wimped out, put it off for another day or cut the length down. Now I have to stop myself from doing more than my coach has set.
I need to put that cherry on the cake and to start performing in races. The sooner, the better, as far as I'm concerned. It's all well and good putting in weeks of great training but results are what count and I need to step up to the mark.
I love the National. Runners from all round the UK, of all abilities, set out for some quality racing with individual goals and hopes for the race. The men's race is a great sight, with nearly two thousand runners racing in their club colours and Parliament Hill has got to be the biggest cross country test of them all.
Undulating is a polite way of describing the course. A bit muddy doesn't do justice to the ranges of underfoot conditions you face. The mud can be like an ice rink or like quick sand and you never know what you are going to encounter.
I really wanted to put in a solid performance. So far this year things haven't quite gone my way in the big races for one reason or another and although my confidence had taken a few knocks, I still had faith that I was training better than ever and that at some point I would surely see the fruits of my labour.
It's always difficult to know how to tackle the week of training leading up to a big race like the National. It wasn't my main aim for this season - that was to come in a couple of weeks. But it is an important race and it's definitely a race that needs to be respected. To go into it shattered from a really hard weeks training would be madness. You'd soon be found out because if you sneeze, you lose a dozen places, so it's important that you feel confident that your body is strong enough to tackle seven and a half miles of fast, testing cross country racing.
Over the past eight months, since working with my coach Robin Dixon, a lot of the worry of how to tackle weeks like this has been taken away from me. I discuss with him what I want to achieve overall in a season and what I want to achieve in each individual race. He then sets about guiding me in the right direction so I can achieve my goals and perform at my best when I need to. Obviously certain things alter your plans and illness and injury are factors which will always change the path of your season and how you approach certain races. However, with Robin directing me, I now only have to focus on each session he writes out for me, rather than being constantly distracted by the thought of what I will be doing tomorrow or next week or next month.
So we decided that this weeks training would tail off towards Saturdays’ race, but only slightly - enough to give me a bit of bounce in my step but not so much that I compromised future races.
Monday was 30 and 40 minute runs which were tackled at a steady pace. Tuesday morning was a couple of miles to stretch out the legs. The evening session on the track was an initial 1200 metre rep, which I worked hard on, helping to push the pace as we lapped the track in around 72 seconds. This was enough to make me feel like I was working. The second part of the session was three sets of 4 x 400 metres. This is where I backed off saving some gas for Saturday. I was lapping around 70 seconds striding out as much as I could but staying close to my comfort zone. I didn't want to feel the lactic burn in my legs, that my heart was going to burst out of my chest or that my lungs were going to explode! I was working but I knew I could always pick the pace up if I needed to. The racing takes place on Saturday not on Tuesday night.
Wednesday was cut back considerably from the hour plus runs I'd been completing to just 20 and 40 minute easy runs. Thursdays tempo was cut to just 6 minute bursts within a 50 minute run, with a hours slow plod in the evening and Friday was just my usual pre race 20 min jog with strides.
I felt good going into the race. My legs were reasonably rested and the way I'd run on Tuesday gave me confidence as I'd shown myself during the 1200 that I was running well and in the 400's, although at the back of the pack, I wasn't finishing miles of the pace and this, without giving my all.
Race day and the gods were on our side. The sun was out and there was no breeze to speak off. This didn't fool me and after a quick look round the course, 15 millimetre spikes were placed in the bottom of my shoes. Mud, mud and more mud, the more grip I could get the better.
The race begins with a charge up hill for 400 yards or more. I decided to play a waiting game and relaxed for the first mile. It's all too easy to get caught up in things and push too much too soon. I set about getting into some sort of rhythm, which was difficult on a course that is so undulating and with so many changes in underfoot conditions. I was feeling good after a lap but was outside the top hundred. My goal was to finish in the top hundred. I pushed on at the start of lap two and was passing people consistently. At the half way point I was in around 100th place and still felt confident and full of running but just wasn't able to give as much as I felt I had. I was working hard but just lacked that edge, that extra five percent, which can make such a difference.
I knew I was capable of being much further up the field but yet again I couldn't realise it. I continued to work through on the last lap finishing in 89th place.
I was relatively satisfied. It was my highest placing in a national cross country race and shows that this year I'm running at my best. But it was one of those races where I feel I could have achieved so much more. The top 50 was by no means an impossibility. I know I have the potential to do it, the way I'd run told me so. It was a solid banker race. Unspectacular but another box was ticked and I remain convinced things are going to come together soon.
I've got the drive and motivation like never before. My long run on a Sunday is a great example of this. It's no longer a drag. I can't wait to put in the miles; it's made me stronger psychologically as well as physically. Even after racing over seven miles the day before doesn't stop me now. Previously, I may have wimped out, put it off for another day or cut the length down. Now I have to stop myself from doing more than my coach has set.
I need to put that cherry on the cake and to start performing in races. The sooner, the better, as far as I'm concerned. It's all well and good putting in weeks of great training but results are what count and I need to step up to the mark.
Thursday 2 April 2009
Monday 9th Fevruary - Sunday15th February
After the fun of running in snow I was glad to get back to normality this week.
I'd always thought I wasn't a creature of habit, doing the same runs at the same time every week, year in year out. I'd thought I was a lot more flexible with my training. If I felt good I'd make adjustments and do more or work harder, the same if I wasn't feeling quite right. But it turns out I like the reassurance of tried and tested routines. So it was with great pleasure that I donned my trainers for Monday's runs of thirty and forty minutes.
A Monday schedule I'd thought I was growing tired of. Not any more.
I never get tired of training on a Tuesday night. It's one of my real quality sessions of the week. But I guess you do take it for granted. Tuesday night is group-training night, only last week it wasn't and I missed it! At first I didn't think I really would miss it, but now looking back a week I know my mind and body longed for the extra impetus training in a group, doing hard and fast work, gives you.
So we tackled six 1400 metre loops on the road. I think everyone must have been missing working together as we were flying along. When I look back in my diary we were a good few seconds up on each rep. We were all up there as well, right to the bitter end. Quite often the group disperses a little after the initial charge to get away. Today, however, we were finishing more or less together. I started to wonder if my enthusiasm had got the better of me by the final two loops. I was starting to blow. But I dug deep and regained some form of composure to get the session done and done well.
Having had a bit of an up and down week due to the weather my coach decided to punish me! I told him the weather had nothing to do with me. He didn't listen to my pleas and upped my mileage for the second half of the week, beginning with a single 75 minute run on Wednesday. I decided to become a coach myself and included a very easy ten minutes in the morning. The first run after a hard Tuesday night session is always painful. My legs are tired and stiff and it all seems a chore. By doing a ten-minute leg stretch it got the aches and pains out of the system before my long evening run.
It worked wonders. I felt very little pain or fatigue in the evening. I almost would go as far to say as I loved every step of my longer than normal run. I particularly enjoyed being able to get a good distance away from home. The extra time gives me room to try paths and routes that I would normal only include on my long Sunday run. Having talked about loving routine I still had a soft spot for spicing training up with different training elements.
On Thursday training again was that little bit further than normal, my usual 15 warm up 15 tempo 15 warm down were increased to include a 25 minute tempo run. Keeping with routine I used my normal route, which takes my usual 45-minute session to complete. The spice was added by lapping Ashtead Village Green to add ten minutes to my run. Having just read back that sentence I guess I'm really easily pleased, I don't think Ashtead Village Green has spiced up many young men's lives! But to the long distance runner simple changes of scene like that can make world of difference. And I think it did make a bit of a difference. Just as I was beginning to feel the strain after ten minutes of tempo running, the diversion gave me a new impetus and I finished the run as strongly as I'd begun it. Exactly what you want from a tempo run.
Friday was an easy day. But I was told to run. Where normally my day's so easy I don't actually do a run and completely rest up, I was under strict instructions to get at least an easy 30 minutes under my belt. So I did.
On Saturday a small group tackled a session in Richmond Park, including tempo running, which always feels a lot faster and harder when I do it in a group, perhaps it is, and some hill running which, opposed to a normal hill session where you summit the hill and turn back, included a good four hundred metres on the flat once we we'd reached the peak. It's all about simulating racing. You never climb a hill then stop in a race. You have to quickly regain your normal cadence and form and by doing this sort of hill rep it teaches you how to cope with the change in style and work rates involved.
Thankfully my Sunday run was kept at just an hour and a half. It was about all my legs wanted to do as they began to feel a few side effects of the week. That said I'm sure I could have done more if required. My legs although tired are ready for more of the same next week, as we really get into the big races of the cross-country season.
I'd always thought I wasn't a creature of habit, doing the same runs at the same time every week, year in year out. I'd thought I was a lot more flexible with my training. If I felt good I'd make adjustments and do more or work harder, the same if I wasn't feeling quite right. But it turns out I like the reassurance of tried and tested routines. So it was with great pleasure that I donned my trainers for Monday's runs of thirty and forty minutes.
A Monday schedule I'd thought I was growing tired of. Not any more.
I never get tired of training on a Tuesday night. It's one of my real quality sessions of the week. But I guess you do take it for granted. Tuesday night is group-training night, only last week it wasn't and I missed it! At first I didn't think I really would miss it, but now looking back a week I know my mind and body longed for the extra impetus training in a group, doing hard and fast work, gives you.
So we tackled six 1400 metre loops on the road. I think everyone must have been missing working together as we were flying along. When I look back in my diary we were a good few seconds up on each rep. We were all up there as well, right to the bitter end. Quite often the group disperses a little after the initial charge to get away. Today, however, we were finishing more or less together. I started to wonder if my enthusiasm had got the better of me by the final two loops. I was starting to blow. But I dug deep and regained some form of composure to get the session done and done well.
Having had a bit of an up and down week due to the weather my coach decided to punish me! I told him the weather had nothing to do with me. He didn't listen to my pleas and upped my mileage for the second half of the week, beginning with a single 75 minute run on Wednesday. I decided to become a coach myself and included a very easy ten minutes in the morning. The first run after a hard Tuesday night session is always painful. My legs are tired and stiff and it all seems a chore. By doing a ten-minute leg stretch it got the aches and pains out of the system before my long evening run.
It worked wonders. I felt very little pain or fatigue in the evening. I almost would go as far to say as I loved every step of my longer than normal run. I particularly enjoyed being able to get a good distance away from home. The extra time gives me room to try paths and routes that I would normal only include on my long Sunday run. Having talked about loving routine I still had a soft spot for spicing training up with different training elements.
On Thursday training again was that little bit further than normal, my usual 15 warm up 15 tempo 15 warm down were increased to include a 25 minute tempo run. Keeping with routine I used my normal route, which takes my usual 45-minute session to complete. The spice was added by lapping Ashtead Village Green to add ten minutes to my run. Having just read back that sentence I guess I'm really easily pleased, I don't think Ashtead Village Green has spiced up many young men's lives! But to the long distance runner simple changes of scene like that can make world of difference. And I think it did make a bit of a difference. Just as I was beginning to feel the strain after ten minutes of tempo running, the diversion gave me a new impetus and I finished the run as strongly as I'd begun it. Exactly what you want from a tempo run.
Friday was an easy day. But I was told to run. Where normally my day's so easy I don't actually do a run and completely rest up, I was under strict instructions to get at least an easy 30 minutes under my belt. So I did.
On Saturday a small group tackled a session in Richmond Park, including tempo running, which always feels a lot faster and harder when I do it in a group, perhaps it is, and some hill running which, opposed to a normal hill session where you summit the hill and turn back, included a good four hundred metres on the flat once we we'd reached the peak. It's all about simulating racing. You never climb a hill then stop in a race. You have to quickly regain your normal cadence and form and by doing this sort of hill rep it teaches you how to cope with the change in style and work rates involved.
Thankfully my Sunday run was kept at just an hour and a half. It was about all my legs wanted to do as they began to feel a few side effects of the week. That said I'm sure I could have done more if required. My legs although tired are ready for more of the same next week, as we really get into the big races of the cross-country season.
Thursday 19 March 2009
Monday 2nd Feb - Sunday 8th Feb
This week the weather dictated when, where and how much I trained. I woke to find a winter wonderland outside my bedroom window. Being the big kid I am I couldn't wait to get outside a play. Snowballs, sledging and snowmen till late morning. What a great way to spend a Monday - if only they were always such fun!
I walked into town to see what was happening and to pick up something for lunch. I had planned to go for a run when I got back. However my plans quickly changed after I fell over just crossing the street! I was at my girlfriends in Cranleigh, which didn't get the same levels of snow as the rest of Surrey.
This meant that the snow on the pavements and roads was quickly compacted down, turning it into an ice rink. I didn't have access to any off road runs so decided to miss training rather than risk injury. I unfortunately had to spend the rest of the day sledging, where (if I am honest) I stupidly risked injury!!
On Tuesday morning I decided to risk driving home. I couldn't believe just how much snow had fallen on Epsom Downs. Cars were abandoned everywhere as over a foot of snow covered the ground. Thankfully, at home I can walk out of the back door and onto fields that lead over to Epsom Downs. With mud and grass under the snow, slipping and sliding was reduced dramatically and I was running again.
I left without a set time goal. With the snow so deep I didn't know how far I'd be able to get, or how tiring battling through it would be. But I relished every moment. I loved working hard every step of the way, how my feet quickly froze, the thrill of finding fresh un-trodden paths, the adventure of running down new paths and how old routes seemed very different when covered in snow.
I stayed out for seventy-five minutes, but I could have done more. The way snow gives even the ugliest of views an uplifting brightness fills you with joy and lifts your mood. If you’re in a good mood whilst out running it makes such a difference to your performance or the way you perceive your performance.
That was it for Tuesday. With my local running track closed by the council for safety reasons I had nowhere to go. I had got a long run in so on Wednesday I would try and do some speed work.
I set off unsure of how fast I would be able to run. The faster you run the more you slip. I knew that short, sharp running was a no go, so decided upon a tempo session. My favourite 15 minutes warm up, 15 tempo, 15 warm down seemed like the perfect solution.
It all went well and because of my adolescent love of the snow I felt great. It was hard work, especially the last five minutes, my thighs were really burning due to the extra strength required to pull my feet from the deep snow, my lungs were taking in long deep breaths of freezing air, my core stability was stretched to the enth degree trying to keep me in an upright position and my feet were like blocks of ice. But again I loved every second. The buzz you get from completing a hard workout was doubled or even tripled. I had a massive smile across my cold, sweaty face. I couldn't wait to get back out in it.
The only way I was going to get a second run was to venture out after dark. I still didn't want to risk running on the roads, but they do have the benefit of lamps lighting the way. I looked out of the window and the moon was shining and bouncing up off the white surface. There was more than enough light to allow me to get out and run off road again. So I set out for a spot of 'off road night time snow running' or ORNTSR! It was great fun. I wandered over fields and golf courses with no particular route in mind and I'd bump into the occasional dog walker and sledge rider enjoying the same night light. I fancied more of the same on Thursday night.
I wanted to do a bit more that night than the three quarters of an hour I'd already run in the dark so did a simple thirty minutes during the day. That night I planned to do an hour's ORNTSR but the clouds had closed in and a thick fog descended cutting visibility to just over a hundred yards. But I could see the ground right in front of me well enough so I set off. It was a great run. It was another fun, new experience in the snow. I was very much focused on myself. At times all I could see was a dark white glow as the snow merged into the fog. It was as if the rest of the world no longer existed. The fog was so thick I could run barely two or three hundred metres away from a road and hear but not see the cars and their headlights. I could focus on myself and my running without any distractions.
With the snow showing no signs of melting, Friday brought some more steady state running. This time the novelty seemed to be wearing off. It was becoming frustrating that all I could really do was steady state runs. I longed to push myself through a session, so on Saturday I would do something about it.
I hit Epsom Downs with vengeance on Saturday morning. On the flat I still couldn't go any faster than my tempo pace so set off for fifteen minutes of it. What I did find is that going uphill I could almost push to my maximum without loosing grip. So I found a steep hill and climbed it. Then did it again and again ten times, all done in around the same time of a minute and a half. I hadn't finished with my session just yet so decided another fifteen minute tempo run was in order. All in all I'd done three quarters of an hours worth of fast and hard running. I was shattered and only just dragged my body back home. But I was satisfied that I had run well, pushed my body to it's maximum and that I was in good shape despite the strange way my training had gone.
I decided to go back to Cranleigh on Sunday. I'd heard it was free from snow and fancied a break from it. I wanted to run normally for ninety minutes. Not worrying about avoiding roads, about where I was going to go and how much extra energy the snow was going to take out of me. So I got it done and enjoyed running without thinking about the conditions. I'd enjoyed my week of snow fun but wanted to get back to normal and continue the good work I've been doing lately. But I wouldn't change this weeks running for all the sun in the desert and can't wait for a bit more ORNTSR but not for a good while yet.
I walked into town to see what was happening and to pick up something for lunch. I had planned to go for a run when I got back. However my plans quickly changed after I fell over just crossing the street! I was at my girlfriends in Cranleigh, which didn't get the same levels of snow as the rest of Surrey.
This meant that the snow on the pavements and roads was quickly compacted down, turning it into an ice rink. I didn't have access to any off road runs so decided to miss training rather than risk injury. I unfortunately had to spend the rest of the day sledging, where (if I am honest) I stupidly risked injury!!
On Tuesday morning I decided to risk driving home. I couldn't believe just how much snow had fallen on Epsom Downs. Cars were abandoned everywhere as over a foot of snow covered the ground. Thankfully, at home I can walk out of the back door and onto fields that lead over to Epsom Downs. With mud and grass under the snow, slipping and sliding was reduced dramatically and I was running again.
I left without a set time goal. With the snow so deep I didn't know how far I'd be able to get, or how tiring battling through it would be. But I relished every moment. I loved working hard every step of the way, how my feet quickly froze, the thrill of finding fresh un-trodden paths, the adventure of running down new paths and how old routes seemed very different when covered in snow.
I stayed out for seventy-five minutes, but I could have done more. The way snow gives even the ugliest of views an uplifting brightness fills you with joy and lifts your mood. If you’re in a good mood whilst out running it makes such a difference to your performance or the way you perceive your performance.
That was it for Tuesday. With my local running track closed by the council for safety reasons I had nowhere to go. I had got a long run in so on Wednesday I would try and do some speed work.
I set off unsure of how fast I would be able to run. The faster you run the more you slip. I knew that short, sharp running was a no go, so decided upon a tempo session. My favourite 15 minutes warm up, 15 tempo, 15 warm down seemed like the perfect solution.
It all went well and because of my adolescent love of the snow I felt great. It was hard work, especially the last five minutes, my thighs were really burning due to the extra strength required to pull my feet from the deep snow, my lungs were taking in long deep breaths of freezing air, my core stability was stretched to the enth degree trying to keep me in an upright position and my feet were like blocks of ice. But again I loved every second. The buzz you get from completing a hard workout was doubled or even tripled. I had a massive smile across my cold, sweaty face. I couldn't wait to get back out in it.
The only way I was going to get a second run was to venture out after dark. I still didn't want to risk running on the roads, but they do have the benefit of lamps lighting the way. I looked out of the window and the moon was shining and bouncing up off the white surface. There was more than enough light to allow me to get out and run off road again. So I set out for a spot of 'off road night time snow running' or ORNTSR! It was great fun. I wandered over fields and golf courses with no particular route in mind and I'd bump into the occasional dog walker and sledge rider enjoying the same night light. I fancied more of the same on Thursday night.
I wanted to do a bit more that night than the three quarters of an hour I'd already run in the dark so did a simple thirty minutes during the day. That night I planned to do an hour's ORNTSR but the clouds had closed in and a thick fog descended cutting visibility to just over a hundred yards. But I could see the ground right in front of me well enough so I set off. It was a great run. It was another fun, new experience in the snow. I was very much focused on myself. At times all I could see was a dark white glow as the snow merged into the fog. It was as if the rest of the world no longer existed. The fog was so thick I could run barely two or three hundred metres away from a road and hear but not see the cars and their headlights. I could focus on myself and my running without any distractions.
With the snow showing no signs of melting, Friday brought some more steady state running. This time the novelty seemed to be wearing off. It was becoming frustrating that all I could really do was steady state runs. I longed to push myself through a session, so on Saturday I would do something about it.
I hit Epsom Downs with vengeance on Saturday morning. On the flat I still couldn't go any faster than my tempo pace so set off for fifteen minutes of it. What I did find is that going uphill I could almost push to my maximum without loosing grip. So I found a steep hill and climbed it. Then did it again and again ten times, all done in around the same time of a minute and a half. I hadn't finished with my session just yet so decided another fifteen minute tempo run was in order. All in all I'd done three quarters of an hours worth of fast and hard running. I was shattered and only just dragged my body back home. But I was satisfied that I had run well, pushed my body to it's maximum and that I was in good shape despite the strange way my training had gone.
I decided to go back to Cranleigh on Sunday. I'd heard it was free from snow and fancied a break from it. I wanted to run normally for ninety minutes. Not worrying about avoiding roads, about where I was going to go and how much extra energy the snow was going to take out of me. So I got it done and enjoyed running without thinking about the conditions. I'd enjoyed my week of snow fun but wanted to get back to normal and continue the good work I've been doing lately. But I wouldn't change this weeks running for all the sun in the desert and can't wait for a bit more ORNTSR but not for a good while yet.
Thursday 12 March 2009
Training Mon 26th January - Sunday 1st February
With the frustrations of the Southern’s fresh in my memory I decided to use my pent up aggression in a productive manner and hit my training really hard, putting in lots of long hard sessions and quality runs.
Often I find a poor result acts as a greater incentive, to work harder in training, than a good result. You know in a bad race that you didn't show your true potential so the next time you tow the line, your determination to show even greater potential is so much stronger. If you compete well, you can fall into the trap of resting on your laurels.
Needing to have an instant release of tension, I spiced up my normal thirty minute Monday run by pushing at tempo pace for the first third of the run, recovering for a while, then pushing hard up a near, five minute gradual hill climb before relaxing back to the finish. I needed to feel I'd had a hard run and a good run, which is what I managed to achieve. In the evening I knew I had to take things slightly easier running a steady forty minutes.
Tuesday. With a long hard session lying in wait with my group that evening I just cruised a thirty-minute run by way of preparation. That evening we were back at Ham Gate for that legendary Ham Gate session. The coach set us over eight kilometres of fast running, broken into two sets. Each set consisted of 2100, 1200 and 800 metres of running. I was feeling good, I was focused and I was determined to give one hundred percent to the session. I pushed on at the front during the first set, helping share the pace with two members of the group, James and Stuart. I knew I was working hard and I hoped I was working them hard too! The second set was going to be a hard, painful affair. The first set had been so fast that hitting the same times with fatigue setting in was going to be tough and so it was. I could feel my legs were tired but I was really focused. I kept my concentration, focusing on my running form and on maintaining contact with the other two. I managed this, give or take a couple of metres and we maintained the pace, completing each rep no more than a handful of seconds down on the initial times. I had run well but was more than happy to finish. It was a real battle of mind over matter just jogging the warm down. My body wanted to switch off, get in the car and just stop. But I knew I had to get it done. After a hard session on the unforgiving roads I knew that if I wanted to walk downstairs in the morning I had to get it done.
Having wanted to hit my training hard this week I was pleased that my coach was agreeable and set me a reasonably long Wednesday run of seventy five minutes. I cruised round surprising myself with how fresh and bouncy I felt after Tuesday night's exertions. I even found myself working the hills rather than easing back for them. I think subconsciously I was preparing myself for what lay ahead on Thursday, namely Boxhill!
Sitting in my car in the car park at the foot of Boxhill, the size of the task that lay ahead gets into your head. The sheer scale of the hill is intimidating. You have to crane your neck to see the peak you are about to climb as you squint to make out the dots of figures enjoying the view from the top. What helped me get out of the car was a training partner. Without Matt showing up I think I would have just driven back home. But with him keen to tackle the hill for the first time, chickening out wasn't an option.
My memories are of pain. Three minutes of heads down arms and legs pumping for all they’re worth. With each rep the burning in my thighs greeted me further down the hill. By the last run it was just all out agony. But finally after scraping myself up off the grass I too could take in the view, basking in the sun with the warm glow of satisfaction easing the pain and numbness in my legs. I think Matt enjoyed it too, although he hasn't mentioned meeting up for a repeat performance, although for that matter, neither have I!
Easy running was all I had planned until Saturday. Easy running is all I could face or do!
Saturday came round as quick as a flash and it was back to some tempo running. With my club participating in a local cross-country relay I decided to combine my training with a leg of the race. I took the role of anchorman. Not for the glory of bringing the team home, it was more to do with having space in which to do my own thing. I didn't want to be battling it out for position. I knew that by the time it was my go everything would be decided. Which is what I wanted as I was set twenty five minutes of fast tempo running and with a lap taking less than ten minutes I would have to just keep going after passing the finish. If I had to work hard and push all the way there was no chance I was going to be able to just keep going.
Thankfully my plan worked. I whipped round the course with no one in sight. Then having crossed the line, slowing to pass through the funnel I took off again. I must have looked like I'd taken the wrong turn to all the dog walkers. I was still decked out in my team colours and race number but with no one else to be seen. The second half of the run was hard. I had pushed the pace more than I would normally for a tempo run in the race. Your competitive spirit takes over when you’re in club colours. But it was good for me. Another hard work out and a great weeks training proved to be the most satisfying week that I've logged down in my diary for a while. I wanted more. I was tired but it was a good tired. I still had energy and will power to burn and the tiredness in my body was a positive thing. It was like I could actually feel my body getting stronger and faster. I just need to make sure I don't try to take on too much and have illness or injury come bite me like it has before. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day!
Often I find a poor result acts as a greater incentive, to work harder in training, than a good result. You know in a bad race that you didn't show your true potential so the next time you tow the line, your determination to show even greater potential is so much stronger. If you compete well, you can fall into the trap of resting on your laurels.
Needing to have an instant release of tension, I spiced up my normal thirty minute Monday run by pushing at tempo pace for the first third of the run, recovering for a while, then pushing hard up a near, five minute gradual hill climb before relaxing back to the finish. I needed to feel I'd had a hard run and a good run, which is what I managed to achieve. In the evening I knew I had to take things slightly easier running a steady forty minutes.
Tuesday. With a long hard session lying in wait with my group that evening I just cruised a thirty-minute run by way of preparation. That evening we were back at Ham Gate for that legendary Ham Gate session. The coach set us over eight kilometres of fast running, broken into two sets. Each set consisted of 2100, 1200 and 800 metres of running. I was feeling good, I was focused and I was determined to give one hundred percent to the session. I pushed on at the front during the first set, helping share the pace with two members of the group, James and Stuart. I knew I was working hard and I hoped I was working them hard too! The second set was going to be a hard, painful affair. The first set had been so fast that hitting the same times with fatigue setting in was going to be tough and so it was. I could feel my legs were tired but I was really focused. I kept my concentration, focusing on my running form and on maintaining contact with the other two. I managed this, give or take a couple of metres and we maintained the pace, completing each rep no more than a handful of seconds down on the initial times. I had run well but was more than happy to finish. It was a real battle of mind over matter just jogging the warm down. My body wanted to switch off, get in the car and just stop. But I knew I had to get it done. After a hard session on the unforgiving roads I knew that if I wanted to walk downstairs in the morning I had to get it done.
Having wanted to hit my training hard this week I was pleased that my coach was agreeable and set me a reasonably long Wednesday run of seventy five minutes. I cruised round surprising myself with how fresh and bouncy I felt after Tuesday night's exertions. I even found myself working the hills rather than easing back for them. I think subconsciously I was preparing myself for what lay ahead on Thursday, namely Boxhill!
Sitting in my car in the car park at the foot of Boxhill, the size of the task that lay ahead gets into your head. The sheer scale of the hill is intimidating. You have to crane your neck to see the peak you are about to climb as you squint to make out the dots of figures enjoying the view from the top. What helped me get out of the car was a training partner. Without Matt showing up I think I would have just driven back home. But with him keen to tackle the hill for the first time, chickening out wasn't an option.
My memories are of pain. Three minutes of heads down arms and legs pumping for all they’re worth. With each rep the burning in my thighs greeted me further down the hill. By the last run it was just all out agony. But finally after scraping myself up off the grass I too could take in the view, basking in the sun with the warm glow of satisfaction easing the pain and numbness in my legs. I think Matt enjoyed it too, although he hasn't mentioned meeting up for a repeat performance, although for that matter, neither have I!
Easy running was all I had planned until Saturday. Easy running is all I could face or do!
Saturday came round as quick as a flash and it was back to some tempo running. With my club participating in a local cross-country relay I decided to combine my training with a leg of the race. I took the role of anchorman. Not for the glory of bringing the team home, it was more to do with having space in which to do my own thing. I didn't want to be battling it out for position. I knew that by the time it was my go everything would be decided. Which is what I wanted as I was set twenty five minutes of fast tempo running and with a lap taking less than ten minutes I would have to just keep going after passing the finish. If I had to work hard and push all the way there was no chance I was going to be able to just keep going.
Thankfully my plan worked. I whipped round the course with no one in sight. Then having crossed the line, slowing to pass through the funnel I took off again. I must have looked like I'd taken the wrong turn to all the dog walkers. I was still decked out in my team colours and race number but with no one else to be seen. The second half of the run was hard. I had pushed the pace more than I would normally for a tempo run in the race. Your competitive spirit takes over when you’re in club colours. But it was good for me. Another hard work out and a great weeks training proved to be the most satisfying week that I've logged down in my diary for a while. I wanted more. I was tired but it was a good tired. I still had energy and will power to burn and the tiredness in my body was a positive thing. It was like I could actually feel my body getting stronger and faster. I just need to make sure I don't try to take on too much and have illness or injury come bite me like it has before. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day!
Tuesday 10 March 2009
Monday 19th January - Sunday 25th of January
This week I was a little caught between wanting to ease up for racing and continuing on with the good progress I'd been making in training. With the Southern Cross Country Championships on Saturday, (over nine miles of muddy fields), I knew it would be a real test of my fitness. To go into them tired was asking for trouble, but I wanted to build on my fitness and all round conditioning. You always want more, with every hard run you feel faster and stronger, with every easy recovery run you feel your fitness is just treading water.
I decided to keep working hard on Monday and Tuesday and then make a decision based on how my body was feeling with regard to how much and how hard I should train for the rest of the week.
So on Monday I ran a reasonably hard double header of 35 and 45 minutes. I felt strong and relaxed for both, which is relatively rare when I work hard twice in a day. Normally the second run is more of a chore. I feel lethargic and know I'm working a lot harder than I should for the pace I'm running at. But not on this run - it all flowed. They were both the type of runs where you just feel you could keep going forever.
After running hard twice on Monday I took things really easy on Tuesday morning. The run was OK, but I often find it quite tiring to run slowly. And I was running so slowly that I didn't really enjoy it. Unlike yesterday's runs I wanted it to be over almost as soon as I'd begun. But I got it done and it helped flush my legs out ready for the evening's session.
For my speed work my coach had set out another broken session. We began with a two-kilometre rep. I felt really good. I was lapping just shy of seventy two second laps which I was happy with, especially as it was a freezing cold night, far from ideal conditions to stretch out the muscles. We then tackled two sets of five x four hundreds. Again I felt good, dipping under seventy seconds, without ever hitting top gear. I began to feel a small build up of lactate in my legs towards the end of the set, a sure sign that fatigue was beginning to set in.
With Saturday in mind I decided to ease back a few seconds for the next set and run closer to race pace. I tried to slow down to an easy seventy three seconds per lap, running within myself, listening to my body, but my times were always up. I had to push myself to the back of the pack to slow myself down, forbidding myself to overtake anyone. Finally I was hitting my self-imposed lap times. I finished just how I'd intended, feeling that I'd worked hard but with gas in the tank and freshness in my legs.
On Wednesday I did a fairly easy fifty minutes. It felt OK, but my calves were a little tight, possibly due to the cold temperatures the previous evening. I didn't want things to get any worse so I decided to take Thursday off rather than Friday. The sooner I eased out the stiffness the better. So Thursday was a hot bath and stretch day, not the hardest day's training I've ever had! But it had the desired effect.
Friday was just easy running, nothing I did today was going to make me any faster in the race; it would only have the opposite effect. So a couple of relaxed twenty-minute runs, with some relaxed strides thrown in, did the job.
The race was held in Uxbridge on some college playing fields, which were, for the most part, covered in ankle deep mud. With a dozen races run before the senior men the course was churned up nicely so it was going to be a mud bath. After an initial burst to get ahead of the masses and avoid the bottleneck around the first sharp bend, I took things easy. With nine, long, country miles to run, a cautious start was the order of the day. After the first lap I was comfortable sitting around fortieth. I would like to have been higher but I just didn't feel my body was with me one hundred percent. I made my way through to a position with a group battling for a place in the top thirty on the second lap. I felt comfortable after my cautious start and was gearing up to move through the field some more. On the long slog of a climb that greeted us at the start of each lap I started to feel uncomfortable, a dreaded stitch was beginning to form. I made it to the top of the hill without losing position and hoped that on the flat the stitch would disperse. Sadly I was wrong. It only got worse. I started losing a few places as I struggled to breathe and run normally. The pain soon got so bad there was nothing for it but to stop and with it any chance I had of getting into the top twenty in the South of England.
I walked and stretched, which eased the pain until I could jog, but I was over-taken by more and more runners. I felt like it would never go. I managed to get up to some sort of speed but people kept passing me. As I was slipping back and being passed I kept to the inside of the course, out of the way, occasionally running just inside the flags, but without any advantage being gained. This wasn't good enough for one runner who accused me of cheating in a rather ungentlemanly way as he passed me. It was red rag to a bull and I pursued him, letting him know what I thought of his gesture. It would seem that shouting is the miracle scientific cure for stitches. No sooner had I finished telling him my point of view, noting that as I did so he cut a corner, than my stitch was gone. I couldn't believe it. I slowly started passing people, not wanting to get carried away in case it returned. I waited till the final lap to push again. I now felt great and was full of running. My legs were fresh and I started climbing back up the field. Having dropped to somewhere between seventieth and eightieth place I worked my way back to finish 54th.
I was so disappointed thinking about what could have been. If I hadn't had to stop I'm sure I would still have felt full of running on that last lap having saved something in the early stages. Top twenty was on the cards and would have shown me a good improvement year on year in my progression.
There was a lot to be pleased with, yet so much disappointment at an opportunity missed. I hit Sunday’s long run hard, frustrated, as I wanted to be faster and stronger for the races that lay ahead. Ninety minutes flew by as I played things out in my head. Running has got to be the best stress relief going. I made sense of everything on that run, putting things into perspective. I finished exhausted but my mind was at ease. I had a good weeks training planned and I know things will come good for me eventually if I just stick with what I'm doing.
I decided to keep working hard on Monday and Tuesday and then make a decision based on how my body was feeling with regard to how much and how hard I should train for the rest of the week.
So on Monday I ran a reasonably hard double header of 35 and 45 minutes. I felt strong and relaxed for both, which is relatively rare when I work hard twice in a day. Normally the second run is more of a chore. I feel lethargic and know I'm working a lot harder than I should for the pace I'm running at. But not on this run - it all flowed. They were both the type of runs where you just feel you could keep going forever.
After running hard twice on Monday I took things really easy on Tuesday morning. The run was OK, but I often find it quite tiring to run slowly. And I was running so slowly that I didn't really enjoy it. Unlike yesterday's runs I wanted it to be over almost as soon as I'd begun. But I got it done and it helped flush my legs out ready for the evening's session.
For my speed work my coach had set out another broken session. We began with a two-kilometre rep. I felt really good. I was lapping just shy of seventy two second laps which I was happy with, especially as it was a freezing cold night, far from ideal conditions to stretch out the muscles. We then tackled two sets of five x four hundreds. Again I felt good, dipping under seventy seconds, without ever hitting top gear. I began to feel a small build up of lactate in my legs towards the end of the set, a sure sign that fatigue was beginning to set in.
With Saturday in mind I decided to ease back a few seconds for the next set and run closer to race pace. I tried to slow down to an easy seventy three seconds per lap, running within myself, listening to my body, but my times were always up. I had to push myself to the back of the pack to slow myself down, forbidding myself to overtake anyone. Finally I was hitting my self-imposed lap times. I finished just how I'd intended, feeling that I'd worked hard but with gas in the tank and freshness in my legs.
On Wednesday I did a fairly easy fifty minutes. It felt OK, but my calves were a little tight, possibly due to the cold temperatures the previous evening. I didn't want things to get any worse so I decided to take Thursday off rather than Friday. The sooner I eased out the stiffness the better. So Thursday was a hot bath and stretch day, not the hardest day's training I've ever had! But it had the desired effect.
Friday was just easy running, nothing I did today was going to make me any faster in the race; it would only have the opposite effect. So a couple of relaxed twenty-minute runs, with some relaxed strides thrown in, did the job.
The race was held in Uxbridge on some college playing fields, which were, for the most part, covered in ankle deep mud. With a dozen races run before the senior men the course was churned up nicely so it was going to be a mud bath. After an initial burst to get ahead of the masses and avoid the bottleneck around the first sharp bend, I took things easy. With nine, long, country miles to run, a cautious start was the order of the day. After the first lap I was comfortable sitting around fortieth. I would like to have been higher but I just didn't feel my body was with me one hundred percent. I made my way through to a position with a group battling for a place in the top thirty on the second lap. I felt comfortable after my cautious start and was gearing up to move through the field some more. On the long slog of a climb that greeted us at the start of each lap I started to feel uncomfortable, a dreaded stitch was beginning to form. I made it to the top of the hill without losing position and hoped that on the flat the stitch would disperse. Sadly I was wrong. It only got worse. I started losing a few places as I struggled to breathe and run normally. The pain soon got so bad there was nothing for it but to stop and with it any chance I had of getting into the top twenty in the South of England.
I walked and stretched, which eased the pain until I could jog, but I was over-taken by more and more runners. I felt like it would never go. I managed to get up to some sort of speed but people kept passing me. As I was slipping back and being passed I kept to the inside of the course, out of the way, occasionally running just inside the flags, but without any advantage being gained. This wasn't good enough for one runner who accused me of cheating in a rather ungentlemanly way as he passed me. It was red rag to a bull and I pursued him, letting him know what I thought of his gesture. It would seem that shouting is the miracle scientific cure for stitches. No sooner had I finished telling him my point of view, noting that as I did so he cut a corner, than my stitch was gone. I couldn't believe it. I slowly started passing people, not wanting to get carried away in case it returned. I waited till the final lap to push again. I now felt great and was full of running. My legs were fresh and I started climbing back up the field. Having dropped to somewhere between seventieth and eightieth place I worked my way back to finish 54th.
I was so disappointed thinking about what could have been. If I hadn't had to stop I'm sure I would still have felt full of running on that last lap having saved something in the early stages. Top twenty was on the cards and would have shown me a good improvement year on year in my progression.
There was a lot to be pleased with, yet so much disappointment at an opportunity missed. I hit Sunday’s long run hard, frustrated, as I wanted to be faster and stronger for the races that lay ahead. Ninety minutes flew by as I played things out in my head. Running has got to be the best stress relief going. I made sense of everything on that run, putting things into perspective. I finished exhausted but my mind was at ease. I had a good weeks training planned and I know things will come good for me eventually if I just stick with what I'm doing.
Tuesday 3 March 2009
Monday 12th January - 18th January
With my foot still sore from the blister, or to be accurate, the wound where the blister was ripped off, it was always going to be tough doing a long run.
Having switched my sessions around on Sunday to shorter (more manageable) runs, I had a long cardio workout to do on Monday.
My foot was healing but a ninety-minute run was never going to help it, so I opted instead for a session on the static bikes in the gym. It wasn't going to be as good for me as a run, but it was better than nothing.
I knew it was going to be tough, an hour and a half going nowhere! It was going to test my mental resilience to the max. I took my seat and began pedalling.
The first thirty minutes were quite enjoyable. Cycling was a novel experience and I could feel it working different muscle groups but as time wore on the monotony of what I was doing took hold. It was a battle not to look down at the clock every ten seconds, it was definitely a chore to do it. With fifteen minutes to go, and the end in sight, I began enjoying myself a bit more so I kicked in with a long run for the finish. I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed it or that I'd do it again in a hurry, but it showed me that my mental toughness over long time periods was good, a skill I felt needed improving in order to make a future attempt on the marathon.
The job was done, I got off the bike, my feet didn't hurt, I'd had a long workout and I had that happy glow of satisfaction across my face.
I wanted to do my normal training on Tuesday night, so just to err on the side of caution I missed out my Tuesday morning run, to give me more blister recuperation time! I bandaged my foot up securely for the evening session and cautiously donned my trainers. Was I being silly doing speed work, as a first run back, on a bad foot?!
Not only was it speed work, it was hill climbing. My foot would be pushing greater forces through it, increasing the chances of a set back in the healing process. However, the wound was looking so much better and was pain free to walk on, with plenty of cushioning from the bandages, so I headed off to training.
Conditions were good for the session, which was to be 12 repetitions of the hill climb, roughly a minute and a half of running per rep, with a jog back down to the start. The session was OK. My foot came through unscathed, which was my key goal. I felt good running the reps, but struggled to keep up with the group on the recovery jog back down. My legs were a little tired, understandably, from my bike endurance ride and I knew that if I kept up on the recovery jogs I wouldn't finish the session and if I did I would see a dramatic fall in my hill times. So, I decided to let them go and do my own thing. My times varied by only two seconds for the whole session which I was very pleased with. I finished it, and was in one piece, so I was more than happy with my evening's work.
My foot rehabilitation continued on Wednesday. It had survived hill reps easily, now it had to face a long run. I was set seventy-five minutes by my coach, which I always like to do off road whenever possible. I find it is better for my mind and body. But with my dodgy foot I didn't want to wear my stiff and less forgiving off road trainers. So I spent some time slipping and sliding, like bambi on ice, in my road shoes, in thick mud!
Aside from the muddy sections it was another solid run. I was relaxed, other than when trying not to fall on my backside, and running well. My foot was up to it and was no longer an issue.
Thursday was tempo day. I can't recommend tempo running enough. For me it's the session that gives me the most back. I get a long run, a hard cardio work out, variety of pace and a great indication of how I'm running and where my fitness is at.
This run told me I was in good nick. I felt really strong, as if I was flying along at a rate of knots, but without ever getting close to all out. I love the feeling of running well and knowing that you're holding something back and that there's more to give. It gives you confidence and motivation for the races and training that lie ahead. Thursday was finished off with a very cold, steady six miler with my club.
Friday was rest day, no longer my favourite day of the week! A real sign I'm running well and enjoying it. Unfortunately I made one small error of judgement on Friday night. I got sucked into a world of gluttony as my chocolate addiction hit me hard. With cream eggs on special offer I never stood a chance. I wish they'd put a limit to the numbers you can buy at any one time! Nine in one sitting is a few to many!
On Saturday morning I paid the price with a lethargic body. The fuel it had received was not up to the standards it requires and unsurprisingly it didn't fire on all cylinders. The session was a ten-minute tempo, followed by seven long gradual hill reps. I didn't run that badly, I just lacked the zip I'd had recently. There was more speed in my legs but I just couldn't get to it. No real harm done, but next time I'll maybe just have seven eggs!
Sunday was back to normal this week and a long run, out and back along the disused railway line between Cranleigh and the South Coast. I didn't quite get to the seaside and back, but enjoyed a long flat hour and three quarters. It was a change not to have hills breaking up my pace every couple of miles, which meant I got into a really good rhythm and managed to keep it going pretty much throughout the whole run.
So, another week done. Lessons have been learned, wounds have been healed and fitness is improved. What more could a runner ask for!
Having switched my sessions around on Sunday to shorter (more manageable) runs, I had a long cardio workout to do on Monday.
My foot was healing but a ninety-minute run was never going to help it, so I opted instead for a session on the static bikes in the gym. It wasn't going to be as good for me as a run, but it was better than nothing.
I knew it was going to be tough, an hour and a half going nowhere! It was going to test my mental resilience to the max. I took my seat and began pedalling.
The first thirty minutes were quite enjoyable. Cycling was a novel experience and I could feel it working different muscle groups but as time wore on the monotony of what I was doing took hold. It was a battle not to look down at the clock every ten seconds, it was definitely a chore to do it. With fifteen minutes to go, and the end in sight, I began enjoying myself a bit more so I kicked in with a long run for the finish. I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed it or that I'd do it again in a hurry, but it showed me that my mental toughness over long time periods was good, a skill I felt needed improving in order to make a future attempt on the marathon.
The job was done, I got off the bike, my feet didn't hurt, I'd had a long workout and I had that happy glow of satisfaction across my face.
I wanted to do my normal training on Tuesday night, so just to err on the side of caution I missed out my Tuesday morning run, to give me more blister recuperation time! I bandaged my foot up securely for the evening session and cautiously donned my trainers. Was I being silly doing speed work, as a first run back, on a bad foot?!
Not only was it speed work, it was hill climbing. My foot would be pushing greater forces through it, increasing the chances of a set back in the healing process. However, the wound was looking so much better and was pain free to walk on, with plenty of cushioning from the bandages, so I headed off to training.
Conditions were good for the session, which was to be 12 repetitions of the hill climb, roughly a minute and a half of running per rep, with a jog back down to the start. The session was OK. My foot came through unscathed, which was my key goal. I felt good running the reps, but struggled to keep up with the group on the recovery jog back down. My legs were a little tired, understandably, from my bike endurance ride and I knew that if I kept up on the recovery jogs I wouldn't finish the session and if I did I would see a dramatic fall in my hill times. So, I decided to let them go and do my own thing. My times varied by only two seconds for the whole session which I was very pleased with. I finished it, and was in one piece, so I was more than happy with my evening's work.
My foot rehabilitation continued on Wednesday. It had survived hill reps easily, now it had to face a long run. I was set seventy-five minutes by my coach, which I always like to do off road whenever possible. I find it is better for my mind and body. But with my dodgy foot I didn't want to wear my stiff and less forgiving off road trainers. So I spent some time slipping and sliding, like bambi on ice, in my road shoes, in thick mud!
Aside from the muddy sections it was another solid run. I was relaxed, other than when trying not to fall on my backside, and running well. My foot was up to it and was no longer an issue.
Thursday was tempo day. I can't recommend tempo running enough. For me it's the session that gives me the most back. I get a long run, a hard cardio work out, variety of pace and a great indication of how I'm running and where my fitness is at.
This run told me I was in good nick. I felt really strong, as if I was flying along at a rate of knots, but without ever getting close to all out. I love the feeling of running well and knowing that you're holding something back and that there's more to give. It gives you confidence and motivation for the races and training that lie ahead. Thursday was finished off with a very cold, steady six miler with my club.
Friday was rest day, no longer my favourite day of the week! A real sign I'm running well and enjoying it. Unfortunately I made one small error of judgement on Friday night. I got sucked into a world of gluttony as my chocolate addiction hit me hard. With cream eggs on special offer I never stood a chance. I wish they'd put a limit to the numbers you can buy at any one time! Nine in one sitting is a few to many!
On Saturday morning I paid the price with a lethargic body. The fuel it had received was not up to the standards it requires and unsurprisingly it didn't fire on all cylinders. The session was a ten-minute tempo, followed by seven long gradual hill reps. I didn't run that badly, I just lacked the zip I'd had recently. There was more speed in my legs but I just couldn't get to it. No real harm done, but next time I'll maybe just have seven eggs!
Sunday was back to normal this week and a long run, out and back along the disused railway line between Cranleigh and the South Coast. I didn't quite get to the seaside and back, but enjoyed a long flat hour and three quarters. It was a change not to have hills breaking up my pace every couple of miles, which meant I got into a really good rhythm and managed to keep it going pretty much throughout the whole run.
So, another week done. Lessons have been learned, wounds have been healed and fitness is improved. What more could a runner ask for!
Tuesday 10 February 2009
Mon 5th - Sunday 11th January
By pushing my body whilst it was less than 100%, I'd lowered my resistance and enabled my bug to take hold allowing a full-blown cold to take over and force me off the road.
Normally it's quite a frustrating couple of days waiting for a cold to pass but this time I knew that my cold was the small price I'd paid for achieving my goal and a top 10 place at the county Champs.
I decided to rest up until Tuesday's track session and to stay well within my limits during the run. We were set 8 x 1000 metre reps, on a cold bleak evening for running. I knew it was going to be a bit of a slog and decided that after the first rep that to complete the full set of 8 would be too much of an ask for my tired, ill body, so I set my sights on completing 6.
Before the session had even begun, I'd unknowingly made my task even harder. I'd sucked on a throat sweet, containing an antiseptic. I'd thought that it would numb my throat, taking away the pain, allowing me to concentrate on my running. What I hadn't considered was the numbing effect it would have on my tongue. I was soon aware that by numbing my mouth I'd created the sensation of running with a big gob-stopper on my tongue. It also stopped me from swallowing properly. I was soon choking and gasping for air, which only got worse the longer the session went on. At least it took my mind away from the fact I was ill, very lethargic and leg weary!
My times were unsurprisingly unspectacular and I found myself getting slower each rep. By my sixth I was nearly 20 seconds down on my first clocking, and if I hadn't already decided to call it a day at six that would surely have been the sign to stop.
I woke up on Wednesday and felt stiff and tired. My coach had set me a single 70 minute run, but I knew I needed to stretch my legs out so I did a little ten minute run to get myself into better shape for my longer evening run. I was glad I did. I felt ten times better by the evening and enjoyed 60 of my 70 minutes. As is the way with me at the moment things didn't quite go to plan and I landed awkwardly on a tree root and twisted my foot. Thankfully I didn't injure myself, but I did manage to re agitate my blister on the sole of my foot. I hobbled home and surveyed the damage. At this stage it wasn't too bad, a quick jab with a pin and the pain was gone. Luckily, Santa had left me a pack of blister plasters at the bottom of my stocking, which came in rather useful. I don't know whether they were left over from his supply, thousands of miles in a pair of old, black boots has got to take its toll!
I set out on my run on Thursday morning with no pain, and begun my tempo session. 15 minutes warm up, 10 minutes tempo, (for which I felt really strong and more like my old self), and then a 15 minute warm down. The blister survived the fast tempo running, but sadly decided to show it's ugly head during my slow warm down. This time things didn't look so good. It had got significantly larger and annoyingly was slightly too big for my plasters to cover.
The only course of action was to stay off it so I cancelled my evening run, which I wasn't unduly worried about with a race on Saturday. It would give me a chance to heal my foot and completely get over my cold. I sat out my Friday pre race run too, hoping another 24 hours off my feet would see me through the race unscathed.
Saturday was the coldest day of the year. As I drove to the race the thermometer read minus four and it was one o'clock in the afternoon! The ground was frozen solid and having lapped the course on my warm up I knew it was going to be a fast race.
The blister was OK. I could feel a dull pain every time my foot struck the floor but it wasn't unbearable by any means, although just to err on the side of caution, I ditched my spikes in favour of flats, which offered me more cushioning.
I decided not to push the pace if I didn't have to. I didn't want to make my foot worse and I knew I would still be feeling the effects of my cold.
As I'd expected, the course was super fast, with short sharp hills and long winding downhill sections. I felt comfortable and found myself at the front at the start of the second of three laps. I refrained from giving my all, hoping that I could win without pushing my body to the limit.
By the start of the last lap it was down to two of us. However, I was aware of a growing discomfort in my shoe although the rest of me still felt OK, so I slowly upped the pace. I just couldn't shift my opponent from my shoulder, so I really started to open up my stride on the final down hill. As I did I was aware of some real pain on the sole of my foot. I tried to ignore it and keep my head down. I'm unsure of whether it had any effect on my pace or not, I know for sure it didn't help matters!
With the finish in sight my opponent eased past. I tried to respond but I couldn't and finished a couple of seconds down. I was gutted. I'd wanted to win all my league cross-countries this season and to make matters worse I'd never seen or heard of my conqueror before.
I knew I'd been ill but I'd actually felt really good during the race and had felt like I was really bombing along. When I took my shoe off I found I'd ripped my blister clean off my foot, to reveal a rather angry looking gash???
But it hadn't felt too bad during the race, the cold temperatures having numbed my pain. A quick chat with some of the younger members of my squad revealed all. He was in fact a former under 20 national 1500 metre Champ, who apparently had been working hard on his endurance over the winter, which explained why he had the edge over me in the sprint finish. I had the answers to the questions I'd had about why I'd not won. Under the circumstances, I'd run quite well and was pleased I'd got over my cold. I just had the small matter, which was fast becoming a larger matter, of my foot to deal with.
On Saturday evening I bathed it, rubbed cream into it, wrapped it up and hoped it would just go away.
I tried to run Sunday morning but I knew it wouldn't survive my long run, so switched to Mondays 30 mins.
I could feel every step but it wasn't overly painful and as long as I didn't stop quickly or go round any sharp turns I knew it would just about survive.
Having done one of Monday's planned two runs without doing any additional damage I decided to cut my losses. I'd done what I'd wanted to achieve, turned my legs over after a hard race, so it was back home to my Florence Nightingale and another afternoon with my feet up! I know I'm in good shape and running well, all I need is to steer clear of all these silly little interruptions to my training, before they become any bigger.
Normally it's quite a frustrating couple of days waiting for a cold to pass but this time I knew that my cold was the small price I'd paid for achieving my goal and a top 10 place at the county Champs.
I decided to rest up until Tuesday's track session and to stay well within my limits during the run. We were set 8 x 1000 metre reps, on a cold bleak evening for running. I knew it was going to be a bit of a slog and decided that after the first rep that to complete the full set of 8 would be too much of an ask for my tired, ill body, so I set my sights on completing 6.
Before the session had even begun, I'd unknowingly made my task even harder. I'd sucked on a throat sweet, containing an antiseptic. I'd thought that it would numb my throat, taking away the pain, allowing me to concentrate on my running. What I hadn't considered was the numbing effect it would have on my tongue. I was soon aware that by numbing my mouth I'd created the sensation of running with a big gob-stopper on my tongue. It also stopped me from swallowing properly. I was soon choking and gasping for air, which only got worse the longer the session went on. At least it took my mind away from the fact I was ill, very lethargic and leg weary!
My times were unsurprisingly unspectacular and I found myself getting slower each rep. By my sixth I was nearly 20 seconds down on my first clocking, and if I hadn't already decided to call it a day at six that would surely have been the sign to stop.
I woke up on Wednesday and felt stiff and tired. My coach had set me a single 70 minute run, but I knew I needed to stretch my legs out so I did a little ten minute run to get myself into better shape for my longer evening run. I was glad I did. I felt ten times better by the evening and enjoyed 60 of my 70 minutes. As is the way with me at the moment things didn't quite go to plan and I landed awkwardly on a tree root and twisted my foot. Thankfully I didn't injure myself, but I did manage to re agitate my blister on the sole of my foot. I hobbled home and surveyed the damage. At this stage it wasn't too bad, a quick jab with a pin and the pain was gone. Luckily, Santa had left me a pack of blister plasters at the bottom of my stocking, which came in rather useful. I don't know whether they were left over from his supply, thousands of miles in a pair of old, black boots has got to take its toll!
I set out on my run on Thursday morning with no pain, and begun my tempo session. 15 minutes warm up, 10 minutes tempo, (for which I felt really strong and more like my old self), and then a 15 minute warm down. The blister survived the fast tempo running, but sadly decided to show it's ugly head during my slow warm down. This time things didn't look so good. It had got significantly larger and annoyingly was slightly too big for my plasters to cover.
The only course of action was to stay off it so I cancelled my evening run, which I wasn't unduly worried about with a race on Saturday. It would give me a chance to heal my foot and completely get over my cold. I sat out my Friday pre race run too, hoping another 24 hours off my feet would see me through the race unscathed.
Saturday was the coldest day of the year. As I drove to the race the thermometer read minus four and it was one o'clock in the afternoon! The ground was frozen solid and having lapped the course on my warm up I knew it was going to be a fast race.
The blister was OK. I could feel a dull pain every time my foot struck the floor but it wasn't unbearable by any means, although just to err on the side of caution, I ditched my spikes in favour of flats, which offered me more cushioning.
I decided not to push the pace if I didn't have to. I didn't want to make my foot worse and I knew I would still be feeling the effects of my cold.
As I'd expected, the course was super fast, with short sharp hills and long winding downhill sections. I felt comfortable and found myself at the front at the start of the second of three laps. I refrained from giving my all, hoping that I could win without pushing my body to the limit.
By the start of the last lap it was down to two of us. However, I was aware of a growing discomfort in my shoe although the rest of me still felt OK, so I slowly upped the pace. I just couldn't shift my opponent from my shoulder, so I really started to open up my stride on the final down hill. As I did I was aware of some real pain on the sole of my foot. I tried to ignore it and keep my head down. I'm unsure of whether it had any effect on my pace or not, I know for sure it didn't help matters!
With the finish in sight my opponent eased past. I tried to respond but I couldn't and finished a couple of seconds down. I was gutted. I'd wanted to win all my league cross-countries this season and to make matters worse I'd never seen or heard of my conqueror before.
I knew I'd been ill but I'd actually felt really good during the race and had felt like I was really bombing along. When I took my shoe off I found I'd ripped my blister clean off my foot, to reveal a rather angry looking gash???
But it hadn't felt too bad during the race, the cold temperatures having numbed my pain. A quick chat with some of the younger members of my squad revealed all. He was in fact a former under 20 national 1500 metre Champ, who apparently had been working hard on his endurance over the winter, which explained why he had the edge over me in the sprint finish. I had the answers to the questions I'd had about why I'd not won. Under the circumstances, I'd run quite well and was pleased I'd got over my cold. I just had the small matter, which was fast becoming a larger matter, of my foot to deal with.
On Saturday evening I bathed it, rubbed cream into it, wrapped it up and hoped it would just go away.
I tried to run Sunday morning but I knew it wouldn't survive my long run, so switched to Mondays 30 mins.
I could feel every step but it wasn't overly painful and as long as I didn't stop quickly or go round any sharp turns I knew it would just about survive.
Having done one of Monday's planned two runs without doing any additional damage I decided to cut my losses. I'd done what I'd wanted to achieve, turned my legs over after a hard race, so it was back home to my Florence Nightingale and another afternoon with my feet up! I know I'm in good shape and running well, all I need is to steer clear of all these silly little interruptions to my training, before they become any bigger.
Mon 29th Dec - Sunday 4th Jan 2009
This week was a case of my body letting me down (with some bad timing), and of mind over matter.
The County Championships were a big goal for me. Last year I finished second and I hoped to have another strong showing. Unlike last year where I peaked at the Champs and then failed to make any progress as the season wore on, due to bad form and injury, I was determined that Saturday's race would act as a marker, indicating to me my form, but not becoming the highlight of my season.
The week started off well enough. Monday passed with two extremely easy and relaxed runs. Tuesday evening session was OK as well. We were on the road completing a session of 6 x 1200 metres. I didn't want to push myself as far as I would normally. With the race only days away, the session will have little positive effect and is more likely to leave me fatigued. So I pushed to a point and completed the session feeling both strong and positive about my fitness and leg speed. But by no means was I bent over double at the end of the session.
On Tuesday evening I started to feel a little off colour! It was nothing major, but I could tell my body wasn't 100% healthy. I did all I could to refuel sufficiently and kept my liquid intake high.
I woke up on Wednesday and felt the same. It wasn't quite enough to warrant staying in and as I only had a relaxed 45 minute run planned on Epsom Downs, I carried on as normal. The run was fine but as the afternoon wore on I began to feel worse - my throat was sore and I was extremely tired.
I couldn't believe it - a cold less than four days before an important race. I really wanted to show people that had questioned my result the season before that it wasn't just a fluke, although I'm unsure how you fluke a result in cross- country! I knew that I had very little chance of being in top shape and that my result wouldn't be a fair reflection of the form I'm in.
So for the rest of the week I stayed in, keeping my feet up, eating well, and drinking lots. Thankfully the cold stayed off my chest and hadn't quite developed into full-blown, snot infested, man flu! But I still felt rough, and my throat was quite raw. I ummed and arghhed about whether to run. I wanted to compete but didn't want to make matters worse by turning a one week cold into a three week lay off.
I phoned my coach and explained my situation. As well as wanting to do well in the race, I wanted to qualify to represent Surrey at the Inter Counties in March, the County Champs acting as the trial. A top five spot guarantees selection and with nine in the team a top ten spot could make it, as people often opt out, or are ill and injured. My coach urged me to run if possible, as to miss the race would mean I would most likely miss selection for the Inter Counties!
As soon as he said I should run I stopped all talk about illness. I put my workman's hat on. I had a job to do and moaning about how I felt wasn't going to help me get a top ten finish. I told myself I was in good shape, the days off I'd had trying to get over my cold were a thorough rest, so my legs would feel as fresh as ever come race day. I was determined to go out and do my best, to get the result I needed.
I woke on Saturday morning to a heavy frost. I wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not. I normally like a bit of mud to break up the rhythm and allow my strength to show through. With the frost it would be hard under foot, making the race faster but with my cold this could be a good thing. I wouldn't work my body quite as hard, which would hopefully prevent my illness from taking hold of my race performance.
I kept myself busy, preparing my kit and sorting my food and drink out, distracting my mind from how I was feeling. I took myself off to the race on my own and early. If I'm waiting on others I get agitated. My pre-race stress levels seem to only show their face when I'm travelling to a race. Once I'm there I relax and can get focused again.
During my warm up I didn't feel great, but I was really well wrapped up and rarely feel good running when I'm not in shorts and t-shirt. I was ready to go.
As I knew a top ten place would be good enough that's the pace goal I set myself. I didn't need to be up the front. If I could keep myself inside the top ten, I would be working my body as little as possible. The easier I took it the less chance there was of my body giving into the bug.
Once the gun went and things settled down I actually felt full of running. But with seven and a half miles to go I kept a lid on things in about 9th place.
I was just focussing on running, my position in the race and on staying relaxed and in control of what I was doing. I was ticking off the miles maintaining my top ten spot. I felt comfortable with how things were progressing.
With a lap to go I suddenly became aware of a group gaining from behind. I suddenly fell back as I was overtaken. 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, I had to do something, 13th was not good enough. I dug in and used a down hill section to re-overtake and moved myself up to 8th. From then on I didn't look back. It was 'head down grind it out' running. I focused solely on the runners I could see ahead. If I could gain on them it would hopefully pull me away from the others.
It seemed to do the trick. With a mile to go I was clear in 8th and all I had to do was bring it home, which I did. I was exhausted and my warm down was a run back to my car, as any more would have finished me off. As evening came I was over taken by the dreaded man flu. My nose was snotty, I was hot although felt cold, but I was content and happy. I was almost as pleased with my performance this year as I was last. I did a job, I set myself a target and I achieved that target. I hadn't let negativity affect me. It was a real mind over matter job and gave me a real satisfaction. Now my focus turns to my handkerchief and resting. The quicker I get over this, the quicker I can start planning for the next big race and another opportunity to show the shape I'm really in.
The County Championships were a big goal for me. Last year I finished second and I hoped to have another strong showing. Unlike last year where I peaked at the Champs and then failed to make any progress as the season wore on, due to bad form and injury, I was determined that Saturday's race would act as a marker, indicating to me my form, but not becoming the highlight of my season.
The week started off well enough. Monday passed with two extremely easy and relaxed runs. Tuesday evening session was OK as well. We were on the road completing a session of 6 x 1200 metres. I didn't want to push myself as far as I would normally. With the race only days away, the session will have little positive effect and is more likely to leave me fatigued. So I pushed to a point and completed the session feeling both strong and positive about my fitness and leg speed. But by no means was I bent over double at the end of the session.
On Tuesday evening I started to feel a little off colour! It was nothing major, but I could tell my body wasn't 100% healthy. I did all I could to refuel sufficiently and kept my liquid intake high.
I woke up on Wednesday and felt the same. It wasn't quite enough to warrant staying in and as I only had a relaxed 45 minute run planned on Epsom Downs, I carried on as normal. The run was fine but as the afternoon wore on I began to feel worse - my throat was sore and I was extremely tired.
I couldn't believe it - a cold less than four days before an important race. I really wanted to show people that had questioned my result the season before that it wasn't just a fluke, although I'm unsure how you fluke a result in cross- country! I knew that I had very little chance of being in top shape and that my result wouldn't be a fair reflection of the form I'm in.
So for the rest of the week I stayed in, keeping my feet up, eating well, and drinking lots. Thankfully the cold stayed off my chest and hadn't quite developed into full-blown, snot infested, man flu! But I still felt rough, and my throat was quite raw. I ummed and arghhed about whether to run. I wanted to compete but didn't want to make matters worse by turning a one week cold into a three week lay off.
I phoned my coach and explained my situation. As well as wanting to do well in the race, I wanted to qualify to represent Surrey at the Inter Counties in March, the County Champs acting as the trial. A top five spot guarantees selection and with nine in the team a top ten spot could make it, as people often opt out, or are ill and injured. My coach urged me to run if possible, as to miss the race would mean I would most likely miss selection for the Inter Counties!
As soon as he said I should run I stopped all talk about illness. I put my workman's hat on. I had a job to do and moaning about how I felt wasn't going to help me get a top ten finish. I told myself I was in good shape, the days off I'd had trying to get over my cold were a thorough rest, so my legs would feel as fresh as ever come race day. I was determined to go out and do my best, to get the result I needed.
I woke on Saturday morning to a heavy frost. I wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not. I normally like a bit of mud to break up the rhythm and allow my strength to show through. With the frost it would be hard under foot, making the race faster but with my cold this could be a good thing. I wouldn't work my body quite as hard, which would hopefully prevent my illness from taking hold of my race performance.
I kept myself busy, preparing my kit and sorting my food and drink out, distracting my mind from how I was feeling. I took myself off to the race on my own and early. If I'm waiting on others I get agitated. My pre-race stress levels seem to only show their face when I'm travelling to a race. Once I'm there I relax and can get focused again.
During my warm up I didn't feel great, but I was really well wrapped up and rarely feel good running when I'm not in shorts and t-shirt. I was ready to go.
As I knew a top ten place would be good enough that's the pace goal I set myself. I didn't need to be up the front. If I could keep myself inside the top ten, I would be working my body as little as possible. The easier I took it the less chance there was of my body giving into the bug.
Once the gun went and things settled down I actually felt full of running. But with seven and a half miles to go I kept a lid on things in about 9th place.
I was just focussing on running, my position in the race and on staying relaxed and in control of what I was doing. I was ticking off the miles maintaining my top ten spot. I felt comfortable with how things were progressing.
With a lap to go I suddenly became aware of a group gaining from behind. I suddenly fell back as I was overtaken. 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, I had to do something, 13th was not good enough. I dug in and used a down hill section to re-overtake and moved myself up to 8th. From then on I didn't look back. It was 'head down grind it out' running. I focused solely on the runners I could see ahead. If I could gain on them it would hopefully pull me away from the others.
It seemed to do the trick. With a mile to go I was clear in 8th and all I had to do was bring it home, which I did. I was exhausted and my warm down was a run back to my car, as any more would have finished me off. As evening came I was over taken by the dreaded man flu. My nose was snotty, I was hot although felt cold, but I was content and happy. I was almost as pleased with my performance this year as I was last. I did a job, I set myself a target and I achieved that target. I hadn't let negativity affect me. It was a real mind over matter job and gave me a real satisfaction. Now my focus turns to my handkerchief and resting. The quicker I get over this, the quicker I can start planning for the next big race and another opportunity to show the shape I'm really in.
Tuesday 3 February 2009
Monday 22nd - Sunday 28th of December
This week is probably (psychologically speaking) one, of the toughest weeks of the year to be out running. Everyone else seems full of Christmas spirit, be it Sambuca or malt whiskey! The house is cosy, the fire is on and the Christmas tree stands sparkling in the corner, but I’ve got to go out and run!
The week took on a different shape to normal because of Christmas, but began with my normal 40 and 30-minute runs on Monday, and my Tuesday morning easy 30 minutes.
With temperatures in minus figures in the evening Tuesday’s session was hard work. To start with the track is slippery, meaning you’re constantly concerned that injury may lie around the next bend, and you have a major lack of grip, thus slowing you down. The temperature also means your muscles aren’t as pliable as normal, forcing you to make shorter stride lengths and therefore slower times. Your body is taking in lungfuls of freezing cold air, which it has to heat, leading to wasted energy and greater fatigue. Getting your body temperature right is also difficult. The more clothes you put on the warmer you get, but your natural body movement is hindered by every extra layer, even when I use the equation ((clothing + temperature) x session length) / how tired I get = optimum training performance!
The session was actually not that bad, but I was suitably tired on its conclusion. I know because the next day my legs didn’t want to move, 20 minutes felt more like an hour. But it did its usual magic trick and left me feeling fine for my evening 50 minutes. It’s like I start the day using my Grandmas legs, whilst mine stay tucked up in bed resting, ready to perform as normal less than 10 hours later.
My coach Robin Dixon gave me an early Christmas present. When he set my weeks training on Tuesday he gave me Christmas afternoon off. After a steady five miles I was instructed to have my Christmas dinner then put my feet up in front of the fire. Which sadly meant I couldn’t help clear away the 12 dirty dinner plates, three roasting tins, multiple utensils and any other dish my Mum could lay her hands on. I guess that’s why little brothers were invented!
Boxing Day morning was the time for my clubs annual Handicap race on Epsom Downs. A three-mile blast that pits seasoned distance runners against the clubs shot putters, sprinters and dodgy veteran athletes that have done way more training than they let on. I’d love to win this race, the pride, the honour, the achievement and the fact you get a blooming big trophy! Sadly I never stand a chance, the others are off well before I’m called to the start. Some have already completed their first lap before I set off, and in a two-lap race it means I’ve lost before I even start! To try and get my self a favourable start time, this year I dressed as Santa. I told the timekeepers I was over 300 years old and that I’d just had a very busy day! But they quickly saw through my cunning disguise, I must have been the skinniest Santa ever seen!
So I set off dead last and didn’t win, but I had a great run, I felt fast and really enjoyed myself. I don’t think any dog walkers and bike riders cheered anyone else on, and I’m almost positive they didn’t have their photo taken by complete strangers. I had to console myself with the idea of being the fastest Santa in the land, especially as a close friend and bitter rival had won. He took great pride in informing me that he’d been finish for couple of minutes, and has phoned me regularly ever since to bask in his glory!
The next day it was back to business and a seriously hard session to complete on my own. I was back in my normal running kit, much more practical but not as much fun! My coach set me a 20 minute warm up to be followed by a 15 minute tempo to be completed over undulating terrain. After a 5 min recovery I was to find a hill, and run up and down it 10 times for 45 seconds a rep. This was tricky as I can run a lot further in 45 seconds down hill than I can up hill, but I quickly found by jogging up the hill during my recoveries I found room for both. It was hard work but running downhill really got my speed up. I love downhill running during races so to emulate it in training can only help. The session felt like it had had real benefit. A good endurance base, followed by strength work up the hill and speed work down it.
I finished the week with a shorter than usual run on Sunday. Only ten miles was set, as I start to ease back ready for the County Champs the next weekend. My body is looking forward to an easier week, as am I. I don’t have to push myself out the door so often and for nowhere near as long, which makes me more relaxed. I’m not constantly thinking about my next run, when I’m going to do it and how soon I have to recover from it before I have to go out again. Time to re-ignite my Christmas sprit!
The week took on a different shape to normal because of Christmas, but began with my normal 40 and 30-minute runs on Monday, and my Tuesday morning easy 30 minutes.
With temperatures in minus figures in the evening Tuesday’s session was hard work. To start with the track is slippery, meaning you’re constantly concerned that injury may lie around the next bend, and you have a major lack of grip, thus slowing you down. The temperature also means your muscles aren’t as pliable as normal, forcing you to make shorter stride lengths and therefore slower times. Your body is taking in lungfuls of freezing cold air, which it has to heat, leading to wasted energy and greater fatigue. Getting your body temperature right is also difficult. The more clothes you put on the warmer you get, but your natural body movement is hindered by every extra layer, even when I use the equation ((clothing + temperature) x session length) / how tired I get = optimum training performance!
The session was actually not that bad, but I was suitably tired on its conclusion. I know because the next day my legs didn’t want to move, 20 minutes felt more like an hour. But it did its usual magic trick and left me feeling fine for my evening 50 minutes. It’s like I start the day using my Grandmas legs, whilst mine stay tucked up in bed resting, ready to perform as normal less than 10 hours later.
My coach Robin Dixon gave me an early Christmas present. When he set my weeks training on Tuesday he gave me Christmas afternoon off. After a steady five miles I was instructed to have my Christmas dinner then put my feet up in front of the fire. Which sadly meant I couldn’t help clear away the 12 dirty dinner plates, three roasting tins, multiple utensils and any other dish my Mum could lay her hands on. I guess that’s why little brothers were invented!
Boxing Day morning was the time for my clubs annual Handicap race on Epsom Downs. A three-mile blast that pits seasoned distance runners against the clubs shot putters, sprinters and dodgy veteran athletes that have done way more training than they let on. I’d love to win this race, the pride, the honour, the achievement and the fact you get a blooming big trophy! Sadly I never stand a chance, the others are off well before I’m called to the start. Some have already completed their first lap before I set off, and in a two-lap race it means I’ve lost before I even start! To try and get my self a favourable start time, this year I dressed as Santa. I told the timekeepers I was over 300 years old and that I’d just had a very busy day! But they quickly saw through my cunning disguise, I must have been the skinniest Santa ever seen!
So I set off dead last and didn’t win, but I had a great run, I felt fast and really enjoyed myself. I don’t think any dog walkers and bike riders cheered anyone else on, and I’m almost positive they didn’t have their photo taken by complete strangers. I had to console myself with the idea of being the fastest Santa in the land, especially as a close friend and bitter rival had won. He took great pride in informing me that he’d been finish for couple of minutes, and has phoned me regularly ever since to bask in his glory!
The next day it was back to business and a seriously hard session to complete on my own. I was back in my normal running kit, much more practical but not as much fun! My coach set me a 20 minute warm up to be followed by a 15 minute tempo to be completed over undulating terrain. After a 5 min recovery I was to find a hill, and run up and down it 10 times for 45 seconds a rep. This was tricky as I can run a lot further in 45 seconds down hill than I can up hill, but I quickly found by jogging up the hill during my recoveries I found room for both. It was hard work but running downhill really got my speed up. I love downhill running during races so to emulate it in training can only help. The session felt like it had had real benefit. A good endurance base, followed by strength work up the hill and speed work down it.
I finished the week with a shorter than usual run on Sunday. Only ten miles was set, as I start to ease back ready for the County Champs the next weekend. My body is looking forward to an easier week, as am I. I don’t have to push myself out the door so often and for nowhere near as long, which makes me more relaxed. I’m not constantly thinking about my next run, when I’m going to do it and how soon I have to recover from it before I have to go out again. Time to re-ignite my Christmas sprit!
Wednesday 21 January 2009
Monday 15th - Sunday 21st of December
This week I was focusing all my efforts on the weekend's race, the South of the Thames Senior Cross Country.
I was looking forward to testing myself against good opposition and racing over seven and a half miles, which is what I would face at the County Champs in the New Year. It would be good preparation for me pre Christmas, as post Christmas the important races come thick and fast.
What I took away from the race was slightly different to what I had expected. The lesson that thorough pre-race preparation is key and that silly, little problems can become bigger problems quite easily, was really drummed home.
I still had a full week's training planned; the first half would follow my normal programme with the second half of the week being more 'easy state' running, so as to be slightly fresher by race day.
Monday was my now 'set in stone', 40 and 30 minute runs and I felt quite relaxed and flowing (my race the day before had obviously
blown away the cobwebs!)
Tuesday was my usual easy run before the evening’s group session.
For our speed session, we headed back to Ham Gate in Richmond Park.
I was looking forward to this long, hard session. I had eased myself into it when I first took it on a month ago. This time I was confident I could complete it and I knew I was running well, so a good blow out was in the offing. During the session we alternated between full laps of 1700 metres and broken laps of 800 and 1200 metres with 100 metres recovery. We would run each twice.
I was feeling good and was at the front helping set the pace. The first set was no problem. I much preferred the full loop and feel happier the further we go, but I gained some enjoyment from getting my legs turning over during the 800's. The faster you can run over shorter distances, the faster you can run over longer ones!
As we finished the first set I was aware that I could feel the beginnings of a dreaded stitch coming on. I decided to play dumb and ignore it, setting the same pace as before. Half way round, I was in a lot of discomfort but decided to try and stick it out. I was having trouble breathing which is not what you want when you’re working hard.
I nearly made it to the end of the rep, but I had to stop. I couldn't hold my normal running form and was getting slower. I decided to cut my losses on this rep and recuperated for the final split lap. That
decision paid off, as by the time we set off, it had all but cleared. I was a bit cagey during the first of the final reps, allowing the stitch to clear fully, but then finished the session strongly.
I went away satisfied that I was in good shape. Stitches happen and I wasn't unduly worried about Saturday's race.
For the rest of the week it was just easy running. Just 40 and 20 minutes on Wednesday, which gave me more time to recover from Tuesday's session.
Thursday was a 45 and 50 minute run, with a final 20 minute trot on Friday with my pre race strides included. I started to get excited about how I might run in the race. I was a little fatigued and didn't want to be as rested as I would be come the County Champs, but I knew a good performance was in the offing. I just had to do it!
My lesson was learnt and my problems all started during my warm up. Usually I'll jog round the course. It allows me to take a look at the underfoot conditions and terrain. It's a bit like a formula one driver's warm up lap. They check the circuit conditions and make any changes that are needed to their set up. However, for some reason I decided not to run the course. I took my own route away from the course and found the conditions to be a little muddy and wet and hence assumed the race conditions would be the same.
I was wrong. As a result of my warm up, I changed my shoe set up. I placed six, shinny, new 12-millimetre spikelets into my running spikes. They would surely see me fly through the mud unscathed. I had noticed that there was a stony patch just after the start, but I knew that we quickly turned off it so there would be little damage done.
I got off to a good start, was in the lead group and I was right, we soon turned of the path and onto a soft grass field. I was feeling comfortable. I knew the pace was quick but it wasn't too quick for me to handle.
We were soon heading downhill through large muddy patches. I felt I'd made the right choice of footwear and was slipping about much less than my rivals. I sat in the pack and waited.
My joy was short lived as we turned off the muddy track onto another stony path. Unlike the first path, which lasted a little over a hundred metres, this one went on for the rest of the lap - well over a mile. The extra grip I hoped to gain with my long spikes was useless on the hard ground. I was the one slipping as my spikes stood proud unable to press into the surface. I started to slip back from the leaders. As we came to the end of the first lap I was still hanging onto a top ten position but I could feel that my left foot wasn't happy - the early pain signals that a blister was forming.
I carried on but the pain quickly got worse, even when the terrain was in my favour. It felt as if something was in my shoe. Not only did I have the wrong spikes in, I also had a massive blister to deal with.
When we hit the stony path again every step was agony.
I thought I'd just try to make it back to the start and see if I could make the final lap but on the hard ground the pain was much worse. I knew I had to stop and see what was happening in my shoe. As we turned the corner I saw my chance, a park bench.
People streamed past as I took my shoe off, finding no stone or dirt. I took my sock off finding nothing but a big blister down the middle of the sole of my foot. Then it hit me! My spikes were pushing through the bottom of my shoe causing the blister. I looked at my spikes and sure enough they were all bent in various directions, indicating they were pushing through. It's amazing how something so pathetic can cause such pain. I walked and jogged back, falling, like the non-existent stone in my shoe, back through the field. I managed to jog a little, very slowly in my spikes, so decided I could change into my trainers and complete the race.
With more cushioning and no spikes pushing through the pain was greatly eased. I got back into something resembling race pace, and was soon re over taking, finishing somewhere mid field.
Frustrated is an understatement! I was annoyed I'd made such a stupid mistake and that something so minor had snowballed. Not only was
it going to affect this race but it was likely to affect the amount and quality of my running next week.
A lesson that I already knew was well and truly re-learned, namely “Don't take things for granted. Check everything for yourself, leave no stone unturned” (Even if they’re not in your shoe!).
But I'd shown myself I had a high pain threshold - a two inch blister proved this.
By finishing the race, my team of twelve finished third (in the twelve to score) event.
All that's left is to deal with the fluid filled blister. I just hope that once I pop, I don't stop!
I was looking forward to testing myself against good opposition and racing over seven and a half miles, which is what I would face at the County Champs in the New Year. It would be good preparation for me pre Christmas, as post Christmas the important races come thick and fast.
What I took away from the race was slightly different to what I had expected. The lesson that thorough pre-race preparation is key and that silly, little problems can become bigger problems quite easily, was really drummed home.
I still had a full week's training planned; the first half would follow my normal programme with the second half of the week being more 'easy state' running, so as to be slightly fresher by race day.
Monday was my now 'set in stone', 40 and 30 minute runs and I felt quite relaxed and flowing (my race the day before had obviously
blown away the cobwebs!)
Tuesday was my usual easy run before the evening’s group session.
For our speed session, we headed back to Ham Gate in Richmond Park.
I was looking forward to this long, hard session. I had eased myself into it when I first took it on a month ago. This time I was confident I could complete it and I knew I was running well, so a good blow out was in the offing. During the session we alternated between full laps of 1700 metres and broken laps of 800 and 1200 metres with 100 metres recovery. We would run each twice.
I was feeling good and was at the front helping set the pace. The first set was no problem. I much preferred the full loop and feel happier the further we go, but I gained some enjoyment from getting my legs turning over during the 800's. The faster you can run over shorter distances, the faster you can run over longer ones!
As we finished the first set I was aware that I could feel the beginnings of a dreaded stitch coming on. I decided to play dumb and ignore it, setting the same pace as before. Half way round, I was in a lot of discomfort but decided to try and stick it out. I was having trouble breathing which is not what you want when you’re working hard.
I nearly made it to the end of the rep, but I had to stop. I couldn't hold my normal running form and was getting slower. I decided to cut my losses on this rep and recuperated for the final split lap. That
decision paid off, as by the time we set off, it had all but cleared. I was a bit cagey during the first of the final reps, allowing the stitch to clear fully, but then finished the session strongly.
I went away satisfied that I was in good shape. Stitches happen and I wasn't unduly worried about Saturday's race.
For the rest of the week it was just easy running. Just 40 and 20 minutes on Wednesday, which gave me more time to recover from Tuesday's session.
Thursday was a 45 and 50 minute run, with a final 20 minute trot on Friday with my pre race strides included. I started to get excited about how I might run in the race. I was a little fatigued and didn't want to be as rested as I would be come the County Champs, but I knew a good performance was in the offing. I just had to do it!
My lesson was learnt and my problems all started during my warm up. Usually I'll jog round the course. It allows me to take a look at the underfoot conditions and terrain. It's a bit like a formula one driver's warm up lap. They check the circuit conditions and make any changes that are needed to their set up. However, for some reason I decided not to run the course. I took my own route away from the course and found the conditions to be a little muddy and wet and hence assumed the race conditions would be the same.
I was wrong. As a result of my warm up, I changed my shoe set up. I placed six, shinny, new 12-millimetre spikelets into my running spikes. They would surely see me fly through the mud unscathed. I had noticed that there was a stony patch just after the start, but I knew that we quickly turned off it so there would be little damage done.
I got off to a good start, was in the lead group and I was right, we soon turned of the path and onto a soft grass field. I was feeling comfortable. I knew the pace was quick but it wasn't too quick for me to handle.
We were soon heading downhill through large muddy patches. I felt I'd made the right choice of footwear and was slipping about much less than my rivals. I sat in the pack and waited.
My joy was short lived as we turned off the muddy track onto another stony path. Unlike the first path, which lasted a little over a hundred metres, this one went on for the rest of the lap - well over a mile. The extra grip I hoped to gain with my long spikes was useless on the hard ground. I was the one slipping as my spikes stood proud unable to press into the surface. I started to slip back from the leaders. As we came to the end of the first lap I was still hanging onto a top ten position but I could feel that my left foot wasn't happy - the early pain signals that a blister was forming.
I carried on but the pain quickly got worse, even when the terrain was in my favour. It felt as if something was in my shoe. Not only did I have the wrong spikes in, I also had a massive blister to deal with.
When we hit the stony path again every step was agony.
I thought I'd just try to make it back to the start and see if I could make the final lap but on the hard ground the pain was much worse. I knew I had to stop and see what was happening in my shoe. As we turned the corner I saw my chance, a park bench.
People streamed past as I took my shoe off, finding no stone or dirt. I took my sock off finding nothing but a big blister down the middle of the sole of my foot. Then it hit me! My spikes were pushing through the bottom of my shoe causing the blister. I looked at my spikes and sure enough they were all bent in various directions, indicating they were pushing through. It's amazing how something so pathetic can cause such pain. I walked and jogged back, falling, like the non-existent stone in my shoe, back through the field. I managed to jog a little, very slowly in my spikes, so decided I could change into my trainers and complete the race.
With more cushioning and no spikes pushing through the pain was greatly eased. I got back into something resembling race pace, and was soon re over taking, finishing somewhere mid field.
Frustrated is an understatement! I was annoyed I'd made such a stupid mistake and that something so minor had snowballed. Not only was
it going to affect this race but it was likely to affect the amount and quality of my running next week.
A lesson that I already knew was well and truly re-learned, namely “Don't take things for granted. Check everything for yourself, leave no stone unturned” (Even if they’re not in your shoe!).
But I'd shown myself I had a high pain threshold - a two inch blister proved this.
By finishing the race, my team of twelve finished third (in the twelve to score) event.
All that's left is to deal with the fluid filled blister. I just hope that once I pop, I don't stop!
Monday 19 January 2009
Training Mon 8th - Sun 14th December
Having sampled the good life over the weekend, I eased my way back into training on Monday.
Relaxed and switched off from running, even though it was for just three days, I discovered my body was ready, but my head was still on holiday. It was a case of just forcing myself outside in my trainers.
Once I was there, it was easy to put one foot in front of the other and start running. Thankfully I managed to get myself outside twice for both my scheduled runs, and I felt OK.
Tuesday was cold all day. I went for a gentle run during daylight hours and ice was forming on cars so I knew by the evening track session it was going to be freezing. I wasn't wrong!
I went through my usual warm-up routine, but I think warming up was a little optimistic. I decided to take my time getting into the session, allowing my body enough time to adjust to the weather and the speed at which I wanted to run.
We were set a split session of 4 x 1000 metres followed by 6 x 300 metres. I was a little anxious, as the track was getting icy. I thought I'd be OK during the 1000 metre reps but the increased speed and forces required for the 300s would cause my footing to slip every time I pushed off. The first part, as I had anticipated, went well. I was pleased to clock around 3 minutes per kilometre given the conditions, but I struggled when I tried to sprint. I have a very long stride, which, by the laws of physics, requires a greater load or force to be transferred between my toe and the ground, but heightens the lack of grip I had on the track. My leg would slip out from under me with every stride. This meant my times were slow, but I was more aware of my hamstrings tightening. I was using my legs in an unfamiliar manner and they didn't like it. I only just completed the session, did a thorough warm down and hoped for the best on Wednesday morning.
With only one run planned on Wednesday I knew it could wait till the evening, giving my legs more time to recover. My hamstrings were stiff but nothing too serious. I decided to do a very gentle ten minutes in the morning to loosen them up. That, combined with lots of stretching whenever I could during the day, meant I had a pain free 70 minute run in the evening.
Having taken some time off I really wanted to push things on this week. So my coach upped my tempo session to 25 minutes of fast running. I really enjoyed the extra time I had working hard. I had to be careful not to over cook it, which I didn't, and felt strong and relatively controlled throughout. I had a race planned for Sunday but I wanted to train into it, so joined my club for a 50 minute run on Thursday evening and another one Friday.
Saturday saw another session in Richmond Park, which normally I wouldn't do with a race the next day, but as I wanted to train through to the race I turned up in the pouring rain, and ran a slightly reduced session. I didn't want to be completely knackered for my race and the conditions, due the bitter cold wind, were almost unbearable. I ran the 10-minute tempo and 10 one-minute hill reps within myself. I was pushing my body, just not to the limit.
Sunday was the Hogs Back road race in Guildford, an eight-mile race that involves nearly two miles of continuous hill climbing.
I was looking forward to it, the weather was still cold and my body was a little tired but my mind was focused and I wanted to put in a strong performance.
The race didn't really get going until we began the climb. There was a big group of us that splintered with the first attack. As soon as the gradient changed the pace was upped and it was soon down to a group of three. I felt OK but knew I couldn't go any faster. I was in a good rhythm but I was vulnerable to another increase in pace. That change soon followed and I was left to battle for second place. We reached the top of the climb half a minute down and I was looking forward to the fast decent that followed, but nothing happened. Normally my legs just flow, allowing the gradient to speed me up and I start flying. But my legs wouldn't go as fast as normal. I couldn't open up my stride length and second place got away from me. I still felt strong and had my rhythm I just didn't have that extra bit of speed I needed to compete. Once we were on the flat I slowly began to gain on second, and in turn we gained on first but it was too little too late, and I finished third. However, I wasn't dejected.
I had trained hard and well all week, and my aim was to run strongly, which I did. So I went away happy - I guess you just can’t win them all!
Relaxed and switched off from running, even though it was for just three days, I discovered my body was ready, but my head was still on holiday. It was a case of just forcing myself outside in my trainers.
Once I was there, it was easy to put one foot in front of the other and start running. Thankfully I managed to get myself outside twice for both my scheduled runs, and I felt OK.
Tuesday was cold all day. I went for a gentle run during daylight hours and ice was forming on cars so I knew by the evening track session it was going to be freezing. I wasn't wrong!
I went through my usual warm-up routine, but I think warming up was a little optimistic. I decided to take my time getting into the session, allowing my body enough time to adjust to the weather and the speed at which I wanted to run.
We were set a split session of 4 x 1000 metres followed by 6 x 300 metres. I was a little anxious, as the track was getting icy. I thought I'd be OK during the 1000 metre reps but the increased speed and forces required for the 300s would cause my footing to slip every time I pushed off. The first part, as I had anticipated, went well. I was pleased to clock around 3 minutes per kilometre given the conditions, but I struggled when I tried to sprint. I have a very long stride, which, by the laws of physics, requires a greater load or force to be transferred between my toe and the ground, but heightens the lack of grip I had on the track. My leg would slip out from under me with every stride. This meant my times were slow, but I was more aware of my hamstrings tightening. I was using my legs in an unfamiliar manner and they didn't like it. I only just completed the session, did a thorough warm down and hoped for the best on Wednesday morning.
With only one run planned on Wednesday I knew it could wait till the evening, giving my legs more time to recover. My hamstrings were stiff but nothing too serious. I decided to do a very gentle ten minutes in the morning to loosen them up. That, combined with lots of stretching whenever I could during the day, meant I had a pain free 70 minute run in the evening.
Having taken some time off I really wanted to push things on this week. So my coach upped my tempo session to 25 minutes of fast running. I really enjoyed the extra time I had working hard. I had to be careful not to over cook it, which I didn't, and felt strong and relatively controlled throughout. I had a race planned for Sunday but I wanted to train into it, so joined my club for a 50 minute run on Thursday evening and another one Friday.
Saturday saw another session in Richmond Park, which normally I wouldn't do with a race the next day, but as I wanted to train through to the race I turned up in the pouring rain, and ran a slightly reduced session. I didn't want to be completely knackered for my race and the conditions, due the bitter cold wind, were almost unbearable. I ran the 10-minute tempo and 10 one-minute hill reps within myself. I was pushing my body, just not to the limit.
Sunday was the Hogs Back road race in Guildford, an eight-mile race that involves nearly two miles of continuous hill climbing.
I was looking forward to it, the weather was still cold and my body was a little tired but my mind was focused and I wanted to put in a strong performance.
The race didn't really get going until we began the climb. There was a big group of us that splintered with the first attack. As soon as the gradient changed the pace was upped and it was soon down to a group of three. I felt OK but knew I couldn't go any faster. I was in a good rhythm but I was vulnerable to another increase in pace. That change soon followed and I was left to battle for second place. We reached the top of the climb half a minute down and I was looking forward to the fast decent that followed, but nothing happened. Normally my legs just flow, allowing the gradient to speed me up and I start flying. But my legs wouldn't go as fast as normal. I couldn't open up my stride length and second place got away from me. I still felt strong and had my rhythm I just didn't have that extra bit of speed I needed to compete. Once we were on the flat I slowly began to gain on second, and in turn we gained on first but it was too little too late, and I finished third. However, I wasn't dejected.
I had trained hard and well all week, and my aim was to run strongly, which I did. So I went away happy - I guess you just can’t win them all!
Thursday 8 January 2009
Training Mon 1st December - Sun 7th December
I've been feeling a little low of late, running-wise.
It's often been a struggle to get out the door and go running. I've felt tired and low on energy. My running, when I do make it out of the door, is solid but not spectacular.
I think it's the mid-winter blues! The days are short and the nights are cold. I've been in need of a change of scene and a short break to revitalise me. I know I love running, but sometimes I question this.
Especially when it's seven in the evening, freezing cold outside, while everyone is sitting around the fire watching TV and eating sweets, I have to out and do a ten mile run.
So a weekend in the party capital of the south coast, Swanage, will do me wonders!!
Having decided to take three days off, I was determined that I was going to work hard, so that when I took my break I really needed it.
I didn't change my mileage - I just pushed that bit harder on nearly every run. I'm a quality not quantity type of runner. I use easy runs to just turn over the legs and I try to keep away from logging up a lot of junk miles. I hoped that by going for quality and quantity for four days I don't fall into the 'junk miles' trap.
Monday was my usual forty and thirty minute runs. I just went further than normal, which was fine, but having run the same routes for years, knowing which route takes how long, I suddenly found I'd finished my loop but still had five minutes to go. I read an article by Paula Radcliffe years ago and she stated that if she was set a timed run and completed her route quicker than she planned she would run round the block till the time elapsed!
I've stuck with that idea ever since. The trouble is, my block takes less than thirty seconds to run round, so a new problem, in the guise of a dizzy spell, has now come into play!
I took Tuesday morning’s run relatively slowly so I still had some pace for the evening session - hill reps. It was a really cold night and I got lost in the fog of my own breath on more than one occasion. The hill (in Rayne's Park) that runs up to the Ridge Way that joins up to Wimbledon Village, takes about two minutes to run up, and we had to do it 12 times.
The climb starts slowly, so the speedsters always hit the front. I always like to hold back and then really work hard during the second half where the climb steepens dramatically. I like getting towed along the flatter, faster, lower section and to then work on my power and strength on the steeper section. I like to do the same in races using inclines as areas to push on, so imitating it in training can only help.
On Wednesday I was a little stiff and my morning twenty-minute stretch out run was torture. I could hear my muscles cracking and my bones creaking as the stiffness that had set in over night was eased out. But it always seems worth it by the evening. My legs are now far more pliable and I shot round my hour's run, enjoying the fact I managed to squeeze it in before dark, meaning I too could stay by the fire watching TV and eating sweets!
Thursday was a morning twenty-minute tempo run. I felt OK and it was a solid run. It was one of those runs where you cover the same ground as normal, it just seems a bit more of an effort than previously.
It is quite satisfying when you can still compete to the same level as when you felt fresh and full of running, which proves to me I've got a good strength and fitness base behind me.
I'd actually really enjoyed my running this week, but even so I knew that a short break would do me good. I was determined not to let the guilty feeling runners get when they miss sessions get the better of me. I had a nagging feeling on Friday morning but the craziness of Swanage kept me busy. Tearooms, steam train rides, penny falls, and walks on the beach - they had it all! It was just what I needed. I relaxed, ate lots of food and forgot about running for a weekend. It also gave me a big shot of pre-Christmas spirit that I'm sure will last me through to the New Year and hopefully beyond. I just need to make sure I remember where I left my trainers on Thursday evening!
It's often been a struggle to get out the door and go running. I've felt tired and low on energy. My running, when I do make it out of the door, is solid but not spectacular.
I think it's the mid-winter blues! The days are short and the nights are cold. I've been in need of a change of scene and a short break to revitalise me. I know I love running, but sometimes I question this.
Especially when it's seven in the evening, freezing cold outside, while everyone is sitting around the fire watching TV and eating sweets, I have to out and do a ten mile run.
So a weekend in the party capital of the south coast, Swanage, will do me wonders!!
Having decided to take three days off, I was determined that I was going to work hard, so that when I took my break I really needed it.
I didn't change my mileage - I just pushed that bit harder on nearly every run. I'm a quality not quantity type of runner. I use easy runs to just turn over the legs and I try to keep away from logging up a lot of junk miles. I hoped that by going for quality and quantity for four days I don't fall into the 'junk miles' trap.
Monday was my usual forty and thirty minute runs. I just went further than normal, which was fine, but having run the same routes for years, knowing which route takes how long, I suddenly found I'd finished my loop but still had five minutes to go. I read an article by Paula Radcliffe years ago and she stated that if she was set a timed run and completed her route quicker than she planned she would run round the block till the time elapsed!
I've stuck with that idea ever since. The trouble is, my block takes less than thirty seconds to run round, so a new problem, in the guise of a dizzy spell, has now come into play!
I took Tuesday morning’s run relatively slowly so I still had some pace for the evening session - hill reps. It was a really cold night and I got lost in the fog of my own breath on more than one occasion. The hill (in Rayne's Park) that runs up to the Ridge Way that joins up to Wimbledon Village, takes about two minutes to run up, and we had to do it 12 times.
The climb starts slowly, so the speedsters always hit the front. I always like to hold back and then really work hard during the second half where the climb steepens dramatically. I like getting towed along the flatter, faster, lower section and to then work on my power and strength on the steeper section. I like to do the same in races using inclines as areas to push on, so imitating it in training can only help.
On Wednesday I was a little stiff and my morning twenty-minute stretch out run was torture. I could hear my muscles cracking and my bones creaking as the stiffness that had set in over night was eased out. But it always seems worth it by the evening. My legs are now far more pliable and I shot round my hour's run, enjoying the fact I managed to squeeze it in before dark, meaning I too could stay by the fire watching TV and eating sweets!
Thursday was a morning twenty-minute tempo run. I felt OK and it was a solid run. It was one of those runs where you cover the same ground as normal, it just seems a bit more of an effort than previously.
It is quite satisfying when you can still compete to the same level as when you felt fresh and full of running, which proves to me I've got a good strength and fitness base behind me.
I'd actually really enjoyed my running this week, but even so I knew that a short break would do me good. I was determined not to let the guilty feeling runners get when they miss sessions get the better of me. I had a nagging feeling on Friday morning but the craziness of Swanage kept me busy. Tearooms, steam train rides, penny falls, and walks on the beach - they had it all! It was just what I needed. I relaxed, ate lots of food and forgot about running for a weekend. It also gave me a big shot of pre-Christmas spirit that I'm sure will last me through to the New Year and hopefully beyond. I just need to make sure I remember where I left my trainers on Thursday evening!
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