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.

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.

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!