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!
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!
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