London Marathon - in my head

And, so, it's the final week of tapering. The plan for the week was pretty straight forward: 4 to 5 miles per day Monday to Thursday with a few accelerations to keep the legs awake, day off Friday (train to London and walk round expo), few strides on Saturday in Greenwich, and the big race on Sunday. What I didn't have a plan for, nor experience of, was the psychological and physiological impact of cutting back the miles in the week running up to a marathon.

My body had coped reasonably well with dropping from 80+ miles to 64 and then 47 over the previous couple of weeks, but the drop to a few miles a day was just too much. My legs were screaming at me. The ghost of every niggle and tweak I have ever had came back to haunt me. The left glute pain from the previous week seemed twice as bad and was now shooting down my left hamstring. My calf muscles felt like lumps of lead - and seemed primed to cramp at the slightest provocation. Even my old knee injury was winking menacingly at me. I was getting properly concerned about whether my legs would survive the first few miles. 

By Thursday I was going stir crazy and in a reasonable amount of pain. Whilst my energy levels were over-flowing, I literally couldn't sit comfortably due to muscle soreness - and given that I spend most of my time at work sat in meetings, I was getting wound up and tense - probably making everything worse.

Phil W at the physios spent half an hour on Thursday evening working out the tensions in my left leg - and I managed to walk home freely without any pain. But, by Friday morning the aches were back and the train down to London with Deb and club mate Tim Fletcher was pretty uncomfortable. As Deb and I walked round the marathon expo I was determined to start the race, but much less confident about finishing it. Just in case I did do the 26.2 miles, I properly filled up on free energy bar samples (the Cliff peanut butter bar was the winner for me).

Deb and I spent Saturday moseying around Greenwich and Bankside - using the river boat to get around and avoid the underground and the crowds. We bumped into Gareth Lowe and Darren King in Greenwich - both of whom had come down to watch the marathon. Gareth, who would have been a serious contender for first vet 40, had had to drop out of the race with a back problem, which meant our best aggregate time for a husband and wife battle would have to wait for another day. Gareth's top tip for the race was to eat some salt and vinegar crisps the day before, a suggestion that I needed little encouragement to try later that afternoon.

A pizza and pasta lunch at Zizzi and a snooze in the sun on the grass in Greenwich park proved a useful distraction from my sore legs. I was also starting to rationalise what was going on a bit more now - telling myself that the pain was just the feeling you get when your legs have run themselves into exhaustion for weeks and you then turn down the miles and stuff your body full of glycogen. Every now and then I managed to convince myself that this was true.

I had not been sure about doing the strides in my plan on Saturday - wondering whether I would be better leaving it given the muscle pain. However, I was really pleased we went out. It was only a mile or so up and down the river path with a few strides, but after about 2 minutes of running I felt fine. My pain disappeared, I was running fast effortlessly, and my head cleared. Game on.

Saturday evening was better mood wise as a result. It was though a ridiculously dull affair considering that we were alone in London for the weekend without the kids. Dinner was fresh egg pasta and sweet potato with fresh tomato sauce, plenty of water, a daft Simon Pegg film involving an amusing alien, and regular chat on social media as club mates and friends across the capital twitter-face-booked nervously. We were in bed by about 11 and got a surprisingly good night's sleep.

Sunday morning started at 6:45 with breakfast: a pint of electrolyte drink, and a bowlful of oats, granola and milk. The usual race routine followed - shot of beetroot juice 2 hours before race start, granola bar 90 minutes before, caffeine one hour before, and, oh shit, we're walking up towards the start with 37,000 other people!

I had to say goodbye and good luck to Deb about an hour before the race as she was starting in the spacious and sufficiently toileted start area with the speedy club runners. Her privilege was hard earned as she ran a qualifying (sub 1:30) half marathon time last year. My 1:15:08 half marathon last year was 8 seconds outside the men's qualification time meaning I was in the 'good for older runners' section with around 1,500 others. I got changed in the packed marquee and dumped my bag on the baggage truck and quickly regretted it. The old disposable t-shirt I had put on top of my running vest was nowhere near enough protection from the cold breeze blowing across Greenwich Heath. I was bloody freezing. I did a few minutes jogging to warm up, but then ended up in a 25 minute queue for the toilets. By the time I got into the cubicle I was shivering, but at least I was out of the cold wind. I sat there for some time doing what runners do before a race and managed to warm up a bit and get my head in gear.

By the time I got out of the cubicle, it was 10 minutes to race start and the runners' pens were packed. I nodded nervously at a few club mates and hopped over a couple of barriers to get nearer to the start. The marshals stopped me getting as close to the front as I wanted - but I was only about 15 rows back having skipped in front of over a thousand people. That'll do I thought: it's a long race and a slow first mile to warm-up will be no bad thing.

When the gun went off the pack moved quickly over the start line and we were off. It was a narrow road to start on and people were weaving around clumsily trying to get towards the front. I moved through the crowd but only when I could make progress without wasting energy running sideways. The first mile passed in 6:10 - only a few seconds behind my target pace of 6:05 (for a sub 2:40 finish).

My plan for the race was to use my heart rate to limit my effort - especially early on in the race. I was aiming for around 144bpm, which was a few bpm less than my heart rate during my first marathon in Liverpool when I had really struggled for the last few miles. But, my heart rate monitor was having one of its bad days - telling me my heart rate was about 187bpm when I knew from feel that it was closer to 140bpm. My Miolink HRM seems to cope very badly with sudden changes in heart rate (like at the start of a race or reps) but I could have really done without it misbehaving today. I reset the monitor a few times but it would just not settle down. In fact it was mile 7 by the time I got an accurate and stable reading.

Whilst I was turning the monitor on and off, the second mile passed in 5:53. I decided to give up on the heart rate monitor, and run on feel - breathing easily out every 5th step. The third mile passed in 5:44 meaning the first 5K had passed in 18:24. Hmmm. still too fast. I concentrated hard on letting the people around me pull away.

The 4th mile is when the 3 different race starts merge together and the excitement of the fast oldies joining the speedy club runners, coupled with some descent, means it is always going to be quick. Beep went the watch as I passed through the 4 mile marker - 5:35. Aaaaargh! Sort it out!

Maybe it was the initial adrenaline fading, or maybe I did actually manage to control things better, but the next couple of miles started to click by in slightly more sensible times - 5:50 and 5:51. The second 5K split was still the fastest of the race though at 17:57.

By mile 7, my heart rate monitor had decided to work properly and I was able to check my effort level a bit more scientifically - keeping my heart rate in the mid 140s. This proved particularly useful on slight ascents, and in areas where the amazing crowd support was at its strongest (nothing like a shout out of "do it for the north, Sheffield" to make you run harder). The middle third of the race was underway now and I was running consistent splits of around 5:55 at target heart rate. My legs felt OK - although the occasional flashes of pain down the outside and back of my left leg were a reminder that something is not quite right. Just get me to the end I said to my legs - as if they were some other being.

The third 5K passed in just under 18:30 and I settled into a consistent rhythm, with all four 5K blocks from 10km to 30km passing within a few seconds of 18:30. My half marathon split was 1:17:27 - bang on for my unrealistic top-end aspirational target of 2:35!

Around 15 miles in I was aware of a commotion about 200m ahead of me - and I realised that I was gaining on the Paula Radcliffe farewell parade. Only a marathon runner of Paula's quality, in her 40s, could jog round a marathon at this pace with a massive smile on her face.

As the last 6 miles loomed, I was starting to experience some doubts about my legs. The shooting pains down my left leg were a bit more regular, and my troublesome calf muscles were starting to hint at a full-scale cramping rebellion. I was also, for the first time in any race, actually cold and getting a bit shivery.

Unsurprisingly, my mind was also wobbling a bit and I was struggling to concentrate. I was supposed to be taking one of the gels provided at mile 21 (having had 3 of my own so far) but I was not sure at times what mile I was on or whether I had missed the gel station completely.

Thankfully the gel station appeared at mile 21 and I took a sickly sweet lucozade gel. The miles were still ticking by steadily, but I had started to consciously hold my pace back a bit as my calves were doing their about-to-cramp tingling thing. The seventh 5K block was about 30 seconds slower than the previous four - 18:56. And the miles were starting to nudge above my 6:05 target pace. I was getting passed by stronger finishers at his stage, and i was no longer gaining on Paula, but there were at least an equal number of 'last few miles casualties' strewn along the sides of the road; stretching their shot legs out in the hope that they could continue, or sat head in hands under the care of the volunteers from St John's. 

I managed to keep my head together enough at the mile 24 marker to do some sums and worked out I was on track for sub 2:38 if I could manage to stay under 6:20 pace. Mile 24 beeped in at 6:02. Come on!

As we started mile 25, the course ducked steeply under a bridge and my calves reacted badly to the shock - cramping briefly. I nearly stopped to stretch them out but I was worried that I would not be able to start again. I was absolutely shattered and doing everything I could to stay relaxed and keep moving. I shortened my stride a bit to reduce the stress on my legs. Perhaps I should have come up with a more motivational thought at this stage, but the best I could manage was 'just warm down for a couple of miles'. Mile 25 responded to the cramp and negative thinking by slowing to 6:27 pace, with mile 26 passing in 6:24 as the crowds picked me up a bit.

The last 800m or so was a bit of a blur as the elation of finishing took over and the pace picked back up accordingly. I started to gain on a few people that had come past me earlier but I genuinely didn't give a toss about gaining places - my eyes were fixed on the clock and making sure that it started with 2:37 when I crossed the line. My eventual finish time was 2:37:42.

As I walked a few hundred metres to collect my baggage, I nearly blubbed  - I was mentally and physically exhausted. Thankfully, a sit down in the meeting area, with protein drink, soreen, lucozade, and some chocolate biscuits from the goodie bag sorted me out and I started to feel pleased with the result. By the time Debbie came through to meet me, I had got my head back together enough to help her do the same.

Deb finished her first marathon (and first run over 20 miles) in a fantastic 3 hours and 11 minutes, but she unsurprisingly found the last five or six miles very hard going - traumatic even. The rest of the day was mainly spent eating, drinking, and chatting - in the pub, on the tube, and then on the train back to Sheffield.

Taking the day off work on Monday to catch up on the home admin stuff I have neglected for the last 3 months was a very good idea, although I used an hour of the precious time to capture my experiences here!

VLM Training Week 15 - Taper Tension

"Hmmmm" pretty much summed up my sentiment on Monday morning (13 Apr). With 13 days to marathon day, I was having a rare rest day, but it wasn't the thought of resting that was troubling me. It was the sore muscles in my legs.

The soreness did not really fit with my perceived effort the day before when I had run hard(ish) round Sheffield Half Marathon; it felt more like Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness than 'day after' race fatigue. I am guessing therefore that it was the full blast few miles at the national relays on the Saturday that were to blame - with the hard 13-mile run delaying my recovery. If I hadn't been recovering so quickly in the last few weeks, I would have been more worried.

My plan for the week following rest day was to drop the overall mileage down to around 45 miles, and focus on 'specificity' (a word I can write but can't say) - doing more of my miles at marathon pace - getting a feel for the leg speed and effort level and preparing psychologically for 26 miles of it! I was also planning to log every bit of exercise and food on www.myfitnesspal.com to make sure I managed by calorie intake down in line with the reduced mileage (whilst getting enough protein for some much needed muscle repair).

Tuesday was not a specificity session - it was the last scheduled club intervals session and I had 4 x 1500m at 5K pace (off 2 minutes) in the plan. This was to be the final speed 'sharpener' session - with 12 days to recover before the big day.

The continuing work round Don Valley meant we had to use an alternative hilly 1200m(ish) route - so we stepped up to 5 reps to compensate. At the end of a comfortably hard first rep, I hit my stop button and saw the lap pace over the 4 minutes had been 5:10 min/mile - about 10 seconds quicker than my usual 'full on' Tuesday interval pace. I made a conscious effort to calm the remaining 4 reps down, but they still went by at 5:20 pace. I would have been buoyed by the pace, but tapering does funny things to your mind and I was more concerned that I had overdone the session. I also had a nagging tightness in my left glute and hamstring - a long standing niggle having an inconveniently-timed flare-up.

I was away with work Wednesday to Friday, but managed a quick gym visit first thing on Wednesday morning. I did a bit of bike work to warm up, and then 4 miles on the treadmill with two miles at marathon pace - felt good this 'specificity'.

After the conference in Staffordshire on Wednesday evening I jogged out for a 7-miler to explore the surrounding roads and trails - using a quick search on strava to find the routes most used by local runners. The roads were too busy at rush hour to run on comfortably, but I found a nice XC route between the conference centre and a nearby village. With a decent level of bounce in my legs, I picked up the pace and did the last few miles on rough ground at around marathon pace (6 min/mile) - with the help of a bit of descent. Nearly stepped in a sheep's afterbirth - but it beats smacking the tarmac as speeding commuters fly by.

The conference dinner on Wednesday was more challenging than the evening's XC terrain. The tables were full of free bottles of wine, and the first course didn't come out until 8:30pm by which time I was starving. The main course - a rather stingy portion of pea risotto came out at 9:30pm with a tiny cheesecake to finish at gone 10. If being the only sober one at the table wasn't frustrating enough!

I made my excuses and went back to my room for a protein flapjack and an early night. I would have been last at the bar 10 years ago (although I would have probably talked myself into a new job by midnight).

Thursday started nice and early with a gentle and really enjoyable XC run. Left glute still tight though and I was miles away from a tennis ball or foam roller! Thursday evening was the scheduled conference run (what a great idea). Seven of us set off for a gentle 5-miler, but I ended up running most of the 5.5 miles with a bloke from Coventry (2:52 london marathon runner a few year's ago following his divorce, now around the 3:10 mark!) Again, nice and easy. Thursday evening was conference dinner hell again. However, having had a decent sized lunch in anticipation, I coped better with the small portions and soberly skipped pudding for an early night.

I said goodbye to the trails on Friday morning with a gentle 5 miler - with 1 mile at marathon pace. Specificity.

The plan for Saturday was to have a proper 'calibration' run - testing with reasonably fresh legs on flat ground my pace across my marathon heart rate range. To explain: I expect my heart rate to increase during the marathon as I tire - from about 144bpm to 152bpm. This is based on what I have read, data from my long Sunday runs, and my own bitter experience at Liverpool Marathon last year. I do wonder whether people who try and hold the same heart rate for a marathon are setting themselves up to fail - surely, scientifically, a constant heart rate for a marathon doesn't make sense? It must often lead to a poor second half of a race?

Anyway, with the kids at their usual Saturday activities, Deb and I went out to Damflask to use the gently undulating back end of the Percy Pud route to test our legs. We both did 3 x 10 minutes off 3 minutes at marathon effort. Deb ran to pace (7:09 min/miles) and I tried to run at starting heart rate (144bpm). Deb was metronomic but it took me until the end of the third 10 minute slot to settle my heart rate down to 144bpm (after an unscheduled sit down rest at The Plough). Still, the session worked well - I felt comfortable and confident across the 144bpm to 150bpm range (my half marathon effort level is about 155bpm). And, I was consistently inside my target pace of 6 min/miles. As it turned out, it looks like 144bpm is going to deliver something more like 5:55 pace on the flat. That would do nicely on the day!

Sunday's run was an easy 5 mile jog out. Enjoyed it and the exercises I have been doing to free up my glute are starting to work (thanks Phil W). A 5.5 mile hike with the kids with a good catch up on spome great Manchester Marathon results for my club mates, topped the week off nicely. Just got to keep the head together for 7 days now - it'll be my data under scrutiny next week!

One thing that is bothering me is Deb waking up with a really sore throat this morning. A stinking cold now would not be good for either of us (and she needs to keep her bloody distance for a week if she gets ill).

VLM Training Week 14 - know (your) half measures

Three weeks to go - and that means it is taper time. So open the taper rule book at page 1 and follow the instructions. Easy!

Only it isn't. Because there are lots of different opinions about what kind of taper works best. There is the 'carry on as you are but cut your mileage by X% in week one, then Y% in week two etc' option. There is the 'drop your mileage but do more short pacey stuff' option, and the obviously conflicting 'cut your mileage and cut out all speed work' too. Race 3 weeks before. Don't race 3 weeks before. Race but only up to 10K etc etc. Aaaagh!

The only common ground everyone seems to agree on is that tapering should involve cutting your mileage. The general consensus also seems to be that keeping at least some pacey strides going will keep you fresh. My humble opinion is that the mileage needs to come down to allow muscles to recover and niggles to face, but fitness and sharpness need to be maintained. So, I'm going with (approximately) 25%, 40% and 60% reduction in miles respectively over the last 3 weeks. But I'm going to make sure I do enough reasonably pacey stuff to stay fresh and confident. During the last week, I will do active recovery (basically walking) every other day, and easy 3 - 4 mile runs with strides on the other days.

So how did week 1 of the taper play out? Well it started on Monday morning in Cyprus with a textbook active recovery run with Deb -10km along a beautiful coastal path at just under 8 minute miles, with heart rate averaging 108 bpm. The evening run was a slightly quicker jog out to the shop the long way round. Just under 4 miles at 7 minute mile pace - heart rate around 116 bpm.

So, by Tuesday morning, I felt fresh despite running 30 miles over the previous 2 days. 'Recovery running Monday' - it could catch on. Tuesday morning's planned 7 x 760m off 90s session was my last sub-5K pace intervals session and it was hard work in the swirling wind. But average pace on the reps was not far off 5:10 - so I felt lifted and tired by the session in equal measure. The evening session was handed over to the kids as the whole family jogged to the local school's gravel track for a mini fartlek session - got my arse properly kicked by Lola on the sprints, but, again, felt strong when the pace lifted even if I could not get near Lola as she banged out a few 29 second 200m reps!

Wednesday morning was another active recovery run with Deb - just over 7 miles at around 7:20 pace - heart rate nice and low at 113 bpm (my heart rate range is very low as my max heart rate is only 164 bpm). Wednesday evening's session was a low to medium threshold (137bpm) run on the treadmill - 10km in around 37 minutes. Felt like hard work and my heart rate climbed throughout the run - probably because of the heat and cumulative fatigue.

I gatecrashed Deb's progression run on Thursday morning - 2 miles at 7:30 pace, 2 at 7:00 and two at 6:30 on the now very familiar coastal path around Paphos. Good session for Deb - although I wonder whether her target marathon pace of just over 7 minute miles is starting to look a bit soft. Thursday evening's session was a quick 4.5 miles on the treadmill with a few strides - just turning the legs over ahead of a long journey home on the Friday, which would also be my first day off in 4 weeks.

The day off fell at just the right time to grab a bit of rest ahead of the national 12-stage relays in Birmingham on Saturday. I won't go into lots of detail here, but the event was a fantastic experience and the club achieved its target of a top 50 finish, and all involved had a great time. It was especially satisfying to see so many of the club's improving runners starting to show their potential.

Personally, I was determined to run my long 5.5 mile leg sensibly - to limit the wear on my muscles (tapering being about sharpening up not over-training!). I also wanted to avoid the pacing mistake I had made at the northern relays when I went out too quickly. The race went well - sensible levels of effort for the first couple of miles, steady for the middle mile into the wind, and then into top race gear for the last two miles (5:22 and 5:19). I was happy with my time of 30:40 and my legs felt fine by the evening. Sharpen don't blunt etc.

[race effort face]

Sunday was the last long run in my schedule - 14 miles at steady effort. I decided earlier in the week to do this run as a non-racing participant in the Sheffield Half Marathon. I had also decided (after seeking advice on Saturday) that I should just run it on feel and enjoy it without pushing too hard. So, I set off a few rows back and relaxed into a steady Sunday run pace of around 6:30. Only it wasn't: the first mile beep said 6:06. A reminder of how easy it is to get sucked in to going out too fast. With renewed determination, I slowed down, chatted to a few people around me and was pleased to see the second mile pass in 6:30 - that's better. Little did I know that I had also climbed 133 feet during the 2nd mile - meaning the 2nd mile had been just as daft as the first. And so it continued basically. My only comfort was that I was breathing easy (every 5 steps) and I am sure that if my wrist based Mio heart rate monitor had not gone bonkers (again) it would have showed an effort level of well below race effort.

The wind on top of Ringinglow was really strong and I was getting increasingly frustrated with watching club mate Kevin Bartholomew 50m ahead battling the headwind and being too nice to tuck in behind someone else for a bit of a rest. He had quite a following at times - people using him as a windbreak. I decided to kick on to catch him up, have a word and shield him from the wind for a bit. I did the same for John D a mile or so later. With all the distraction I hadn't realised that I was starting to move through the field. I still felt relaxed and not at race effort though, so just decided to roll with it down the hills to Dore. The downhill miles were now ticking past pretty quickly 5:23, 5:24, but I felt fine - and I was supposed to be running to feel. So that's fine.

The support down through Ecclesall was excellent and I was properly enjoying myself now. Gravity was doing the hard work, my legs were turning over easily, and I was only a few miles from the finish of a really enjoyable run. My only concern was that I might have irritated my club mates by drifting in and out of the race and offering advice. I also realised that I was probably the club's leading runner in the race - and that felt a bit false somehow.

Anyway, concerns put aside for a bit, I took a caffeine gel with water at mile 10 (more to rehearse for London than anything else) and started to reel more people in as the field thinned out. As I went past Hunters Bar roundabout I could only see one yellow vest in the distance - from the posture and gait I guessed it was probably Kevin Doyle from Kimberworth Striders. I snuck up on Kevin and we chatted briefly before I decided the run would be even better if I nicked another place before the end; so, I set off up Charter Row and caught another (unknown) runner. Before I knew it, I was round the corner and trotting happily up to the Town Hall - the picture that Pete Robertshaw took with 400m to go sums up my mood up nicely.

Obviously a hilly half marathon at target marathon pace was not part of my plan! But it felt good, didn't tire me out as far as I can tell, and it has given me the confidence to taper properly over the next 3 weeks. I'm fit enough now - just need to be as fresh and sharp as possible on the day.

The run also made me realise that my heart rate monitor might not be reliable enough for marathon day - so I'll need a plan b. And, my shoes were uncomfortable for the last few miles meaning I might need to try an alternative. Maybe even my race shoes? But, that's a debate for next time.

VLM Training Week 13 - the Mrs is a hero

Suffice to say that Sunday's packing went pretty badly. Deb was finishing an urgent piece of work most of the day, and whilst I managed to get my running kit and the family gadgets together, my incompetence when it comes to packing for the kids, coupled with my fatigue, meant we had everything left to do on Monday morning. We HAD to leave at around 12:30 for the 2.5 hour dash down to Stansted for our late-afternoon flight to Paphos.

So, I was up early on Monday and only managed to squeeze in a half hour treadmill recovery run at the gym. I was amazed that Deb stood for it to be honest, but with a few weeks left to go, her tolerance for my focus (obsession) has increased. I am sure it will only be temporary but I am grateful nevertheless.

The travel down to Stansted was pretty stress free - until I realised that we had forgotten the driving licences we needed for the hire car we were picking up at Paphos airport. I thought it was sorted after a few phone calls but DVLA managed to send the required fax to the wrong number - the start of a farce that continued for the next 48 hours meaning we ended up getting a 30 euro taxi to our hotel and being without a car for the first day or so. But, I am drifting off topic.

I spent the plane journey watching episodes of Walking Dead and making adjustments to our training plans (as you do). I wanted to make use of the opportunity for us both to do more morning / evening training (doubles). I also wanted to build a bit more marathon effort work into the last few weeks of the plans - 'tune up' stuff to get us used to the target pace and effort..

Tuesday was scheduled for an evening session of long reps, but I was too keen to explore the Paphos coastal path I was planning to do most of my running on whilst away. So I headed out early for an easy 5-miler, looking for decent bits of path for 'intervals' later. The evening session didn't go as planned as the kids required supervising at the jacuzzi (don't ask). So I swapped in a hard treadmill 7.4 mile fartlek session in the gym overlooking the jacuzzi.

The kids are at the age now where they will happily get themselves up in the morning and get their own breakfast. There may be a time when they put down their tablets, clean up after themselves, and get dressed and ready to leave the house unprompted, but I am not holding my breath. Anyway, this means that Deb and I can go out for a run together before breakfast on holiday these days. So, Wednesday morning started with a gentle 10-miler up the coast with Deb at just under 8 minute mile pace.

My plan was to top up with a few more recovery miles on Wednesday evening, but we ended up eating out and going to the cinema (weather wasn't great). Skipping the evening miles was frustrating, but it did mean that I hit Thursday morning's session with fresh legs. The plan was to do a couple of easy miles with Deb and then do 5 miles at marathon effort (heart rate around 145 bpm) before meeting back up with Deb who was doing the same session and jogging a mile back to the apartment. After the easy two miles I kicked on but judged it wrong and found myself struggling to get my effort level right. My heart rate was too high at around 150bpm meaning my pace was up around the 5:40 / mile mark. After a mile or so of getting it wrong, I gave up trying to fight it and just decided to run the session hard. The 5 miles over a mixture of crazy paving and rough ground passed by quickly in about 29 minutes. It felt good to have a blow out.

Thursday daytime was spent sightseeing ("not more old rocks Dad") with a few hours on the beach in the afternoon. I managed to get a bit of sleep in the sun on the beach and by evening felt fully recovered from the morning session. I decided to up the tempo of the scheduled recovery run and tested the hotel's creaking treadmill with a 36 minute 10K. As I have increased my mileage over the last couple of months, I have found that I recover much more quickly than I used to. The relaxing snooze on the beach helped to!

I ran out with Deb again on Friday morning for a proper zone 1 active recovery run (might be my first ever) - a nice and easy 49-minute 10K with heart rate around 110 bpm. Friday evening was a 7-mile treadmill recovery at a more typical 125 bpm.

Saturday morning was a short, tune-up run with a couple of steady miles followed by a hard 1.5 mile push down the coast. I only managed to average 5:45 pace for the push due (I hope) to the strong headwind. I kept the evening run as a short recovery with half an eye on the final 20 miler of the training plan the following day.

The start of my scheduled 20 mile Sunday run was reasonably delayed by waiting for the kids to get up for the traditional chocolate egg hunt. When I got out at around 10am it was already 19 degrees and the sun was pretty oppressive. I was glad of the cool breeze blowing in off the sea. Six miles into the run, I bought some water from a beach shack, took a good glug, put my remaining euro back in my pocket and stashed the remainder of the water under a rock for the way back.

I managed to get pretty lost on the way out - ending up on some rough terrain and taking a detour through a plantation of triffids, but the miles were ticking by at well under 7 minutes and I felt pretty comfortable if a little hot. Navigation was less of an issue on the way back as I stuck to the coastal road for a bit longer. With a gel dispatched I was also feeling a bit more lively and the miles started to tick by more quickly - close to 6-minute mile pace on the tarmac. I retrieved my water at around mile 15 (not a moment too soon) and took a caffeinated gel to give me a lift for the home stretch. The plan was to push up to marathon effort for the last 3 miles to get a feel for how fast my tired legs would go with my heart rate at around threshold level - 145 bpm. I managed to set my effort level about right and I was reasonably happy to hold 6:10 pace on rough terrain and whilst dodging tourists. I am hoping that a decent taper and adrenaline on the day of the marathon will give me the confidence to go out on the day at 6 min/mile pace and finish in around 2:37. Starting to feel realistic?

At the end of the run, I was seriously hot, with the temperature now around 23 degrees. I popped into a shop to get some water but found that I had managed to lose my euro! It was a very thirsty jog back to the apartment - although the cold water hamstring and calf massage in the hydro pool was worth the wait!