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.
Thursday 19 March 2009
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!
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