The morning after thunder run (and 10 hours of deep sleep) was filled with some frantic packing ahead of a 5 hour drive down to Cornwall for a week's holiday. I can't say that I was enjoying running up and down the cellar stairs to get body boards, spades, buckets etc 'just in case' but my legs were not actually that bad. My stomach was still tender - showing how much a good cross country run exercises your core! I had already decided to rest for 2 days and ease back into running school gently during the week. The running school forum on 'whatsapp' would keep me up to speed with the prescribed sessions.
The first recovery run on Wednesday was a pre-breakfast explore with Deb. We managed to find the trail at the back of the campsite, which led alongside a rough riverside path to the network of canal and cycle paths around the marshes near Bude that are basically 'training paradise'. Mainly flat tarmac trails with gentle curves in stunning surroundings with herons, ducks, and kingfishers for company.
By Thursday morning I felt fresh enough to bring in a bit of quality but the dodgy internet connection at the campsite prevented me accessing the schedule so I had to make something up. I decided to hedge my bets and went for a 1.2.3.4.3.2.1 minute pyramid with rests matching the reps. Deb did the same. I felt pretty good on the reps - no aches and pains to speak of really.
On Friday morning I felt pretty bouncy, still benefiting from the two days off at the start of the week presumably. However, with the local parkrun planned for Saturday morning, I decided to just stretch my legs out with a couple of short threshold efforts rather than attempt anything more strenuous. I was pleased with the efforts, and just above marathon heart rate (148bpm) delivered a reasonably relaxed 5:40 pace down the smooth canal towpath. I was pretty pleased with that - about the same pace / heart rate as the week before London Marathon (when I was about 3 pounds lighter).
We were both up bright and early for holiday parkrun on Saturday but the car battery was flat (some hairless idiot left the key in for a few hours the day before). I wasn't too disappointed actually as I wanted to get a session in. We both returned to the marshes, did plenty of core and strength drills (much to the bemusement of some dog walkers) and then jogged to a killer of a hill near Marhamchurch for 10 x 40s hill sprints. Unfortunately, Deb pulled her calf muscle on rep 6 so we cut the session short. I squeezed a couple more in (!) to get up to 8 before catching a limping Deb up and walk / jogging back to the campsite.
When I finally got an internet connection later that day I saw that the running school instructions for the day had been to go and do a parkrun at low threshold, rest for a bit, and then run 1 mile hard. Obviously this was the only excuse I needed to nip out in the evening and do the session as prescribed. Felt good to get a double in again and even better to get to bed early that evening.
Early bedtime meant early wake-up, so my Sunday Run started at 6:50am. I took a direct route through Bude to the coast where I planned to join the coastal path and head north until my watch said '6 miles' before turning round and coming home. At least that was the plan. What I had forgotten about coastal paths is that they basically go up and down A LOT as they dip in and out of coves, beaches etc. The coastal path north of Bude is a particular challenge with stairs cut into a lot of the hills. My legs were not enjoying the increasing amount of stair climbing after just over 5 miles (at over 8 minute mile pace!), so I turned round and headed back - clocking 11.7 miles overall (that felt like 15). When I got back I found Deb nursing her ankle - the silly sod had set out on a 12 mile run thinking she might 'run the injury off'. She lasted about a mile.
We had a 6 hour drive back on Monday but got back at about 4:30pm meaning that I could quickly unpack the car and get out to the running school tempo run round Damflask. The plan was 1 mile warm up - 30 minutes at threshold effort - 1 mile warm down. Young Mike T took us out too fast for the first mile or so but Mike, Andy B, Alex C and I soon settled into a steady pace of around 6:05 minute/miles round the Damflask trails. The session felt good. It never ceases to amaze me how much easier it is to run at a higher effort level in the right company.
Tuesday (4th August) was another running school session. We started with plenty of core drills and then went into 5 x 50m sprints followed by 3 sets of 3 x 300m off 45 seconds. I managed to keep all of the 300m reps at or just below my 50s target (4:35 pace) but it was a HARD session and I felt like I had run about 5 times more miles than we did. I was starting to appreciate why many people believe that short quality sessions can provide equal if not more training benefit than loads more miles. I was also starting to feel up for getting better at this 'short sprinty stuff' - wondering if I could ever recapture that feeling of school sports day 29 years ago when I would have run the 300m in around 40 seconds.
Wednesday brought with it very sore legs and it was all I could do to jog home after work. I am not sure it was the right day to kick my 10 cans of diet coke per day habit either as I basically felt either half asleep or a bit cold turkey. Thursday was a running school easy group run - a trot to training, and then a conversational run to Rotherham and back via the canal with some 200m efforts to finish. I dropped out after five of the 200m efforts because my legs were screaming (I was also late to pick up the kids from their training at Woodbourn!)
Friday was a very gentle trot to and from work as I tried in vain to get my legs to work. The short speedy stuff over the previous week, and particularly Tuesday, had basically given me the worse case of delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS) I have ever had. I was pretty disappointed as we had a 3000m time trial planned for Saturday morning and I had really wanted to have a proper go at it. To make matters worse, a lolloping bloody dog in Bingham park tried to knock me over and I managed to tweak my right calf dodging round it. I pretty much resigned myself to a day of rest on Saturday and Friday night involved a few beers and a very hot curry.
Surprisingly, I woke up on Saturday feeling OK (curry power). My legs were a bit sore, but a lot better, and my calf pain had nearly gone. A couple of paracetamol later and I was on my way to meet my running school classmates at the track for the 3000m time trial. We did a mile warm up and then each did our own pre-race thing. For me this means some strides and some dynamic stretching.
Phil W and Mike T took on pace making duties for the first 1600m of the 3000m time trial with Alex P and me following close behind. I felt pretty comfortable at the pace (5:05 mile) but was glad of the guidance as I would have otherwise gone off way too quick. As the pace makers peeled off, Alex and I struck out on our own with the others stretching out over the 100m behind us. I knew that Alex would be quicker than me over 3000m so I didn't panic when he pulled away a bit, and although my pace dropped slightly in the last few laps, I finished in 9:34 (5:08 pace on average) - pretty much bang on my target time. We finished with loads of drills and sprints. The camaraderie and banter amongst the squad was great throughout. Again, a reminder of how much difference good group training makes.
That evening, I suggested a run along Burbage skyline and was pleased that Lola agreed. We set off from Fox House Pub at about 6:30pm and took the high rocky path to Ringinglow Road, returning via the lower path to the pub. I was pretty amazed with Lola's fitness actually - she kept up pretty easily on the way up the rocks when my heart rate was getting into zone 3 and strode along purposefully down the path after 3 miles of hard work at around 7:10 pace (she is 12 next week). Her coach is advising that she opts out of the cross country season this year in favour of additional jumps and sprints training (her strongest events). I am not so sure now!
The less said about my Sunday run the better. Return of the DOMS. I have never run as tired as that in my life. My legs hurt from the moment I set off until the moment my watch beeped to say the 14 miles I was aiming for was up. Normally I would have continued the run until I got home regardless of the target mileage, but I opted for the 'walk of shame' home instead - disguising my shame with a hastily bought carrier bag full of breadcakes.
Thunder Run is either pure genius or really silly. I haven't decided which yet.
The event basically involves setting up a challenging cross country 10km course next to a large campsite. People turn up at the campsite and set up their tents. They then run round and round the 10km course as many times as possible in 24 hours. Some mad fools compete as individuals (yep, just walking / running round the course continuously for 24 hours with the occasional stop for a chat), some compete as pairs (in a continuous relay), and some in teams of 5 or 8 (also a continuous relay). The winning person / team in each category is the one that has completed the most laps of the course when the 24 hours is up.
A few running club mates had done Thunder Run in 2014 and raved about it so when I was asked to put my name down provisionally to be part of a 5 man team in 2015 I said, "yes, why not?" What I missed at the time was that Thunder Run was the same weekend as Tramlines, which didn't go down too well at home. I also hadn't really thought through that signing up would mean running between 60km and 70km on rough ground in 24 hours with very little sleep. A challenge that I actually warmed to the closer I got to the event (perhaps as an antidote to my new low-mileage training plan?)
Most of the team got down to the campsite on Friday evening and set up camp in the driving rain. I was out for a couple of beers and a bbq on Friday at a friend's birthday party but got into bed reasonably early (whilst Deb went out partying at tramlines). I picked up a little hire van on Saturday morning, slung a mattress and a kit bag in the back of it, packed a picnic of easily digestible food and snacks, and set off to Walton-on-Trent at about 9.30am.
I arrived at the campsite at about 11am in glorious sunshine and was really pleased that the team had nabbed a really good spot. We were close to the start / finish line, near to the flushing toilets, and not too far from the showers. We also had a great view of the last killer hill. All of the talk was about the state of the course after the torrential rain. The prognosis wasn't good - with reports from 'scouts' of trecherous slippery mud covering some ofthe rougher sections of the course.
An hour later Alex Plant set off on our first lap. Our plan for our 5 man team (named in honour of Steve Way #dontbesh*t) was to run 2 single laps each for the first 8 hours or so - and then all do a double lap overnight to give everyone a chance of a few hours of consecutive sleep. We would then all do one or two more laps the next morning depending on how much time we had got left and how much we had in our legs.
Alex P finished the first 10km lap in around 38:43 doing his best to avoid racing hard given that this was in effect the first lap of at least six or seven. Alex's lap was still the 43rd fastest of the day though (and 11,300 laps were run during the 24 hours!) Alex confirmed that the conditions were slippery - so I dusted down my cross country spikes in preparation for my first lap (due around 14:10). Alex Collings was next out - running just under 42 minutes and coming back with one side completely covered in mud. Ben took the baton from Alex C - and put a decent 43:10 effort in.
My plan for all of the laps was to run at around marathon effort level - about 144bpm. I figured that this would prevent me overdoing the early laps and help me recover more quickly in the 2 hours 45 minutes I expected to get between most of my laps.
I took the baton from Ben and started off across the smooth grass repeating 'smooth and easy' in my head. I dinked up the first incline, through the forest trails, and reached the end of the first mile feeling good. I looked at my heart rate at this point: 153bpm. Hmmm, supposed to be marathon effort not half marathon effort!
I focused on trying to calm everything down but the race environment and the constant over-taking were too exhilarating so I just rolled with it. The twisting and turning through the forest trails was a good laugh, and although I slipped about a bit on the mud, my spikes held pretty firm. Before I knew it, I was at the end of the first lap: 38:04. I handed over to Tom A who knocked out a solid 50 minute lap - putting us in second place 4 minutes behind the leaders (after one complete cycle of runners).
I tried to relax for the next couple of hours - lying down for a bit in my new home in the back of the hire van, eating a bit of pasta, and staying hydrated. Alex P went out again after Tom, running what turned out to be our fastest lap of the 24 hours: 37:35 (15th overall and fastest of any 5 x male team). My next lap, and the team's 9th, was pretty close though: 37:39 (16th overall and 2nd of any 5 x male team). The ground was drying out quickly now - and the course was holding up well to the bombardment of 470 laps per hour! I handed over to Tom again, who picked up the pace to knock out a 49 minute lap. After the second cycle of runners we were still in second, but 8 minutes behind. It was already becoming clear that we were up against it if we wanted the win.
We now moved into an evening of double-runs. Alex was first out - running the 12 mile double-lap bang on target in the evening sunshine: 39:24 and 40:30 (1:19:54). We were briefly neck-and-neck with the winning team at this point. Alex C and Ben both ran their 'doubles' well within target time as the darkness descended and the headtorches came out .
We were already way ahead of our team timetable at this point and this meant lots of recalculations to see when people would need to wake up to do their 'middle of the night' lap! A little admin table in the club tent became the centre of timetable control - and Ben and I did the sums to keep people informed about their schedule. Claire S and Sarah L from the club were running as a female pair (the nutters) - and the lap times and notes they put on the whiteboard grew increasingly impressive as they progressed to an easy win. Sarah and Claire chalked up 110km each - with average laps of under an hour. They even finished a couple of hours early knowing that nobody could catch them!.
I headed out on my double lap at about 11:20pm [click for strava video!] with headtorch on full power. I have never enjoyed a run so much - I ran hard and steady for the 12 miles, threw caution to the wind, and had a proper race with a couple of runners that resisted being overtaken. I nearly turned my ankle a few times on the rough ground and the caution of others made it difficult to overtake - but I still managed to sustain a decent pace. It turned out that one of the decent runners I caught during my second lap was Simon from the leading team - meaning that I completed my double with the team in first place by nearly a minute. My times were 40:06 and 39:49 (1:19:55)
I managed to get a bit of sleep after the run although it was fitful at best given the adrenaline and surrounding noise. I was back up again and on the start line for my 5th lap at 4:50am - with the team 13 minutes behind. I was starting to feel a bit tired now - and some of my team mates were suffering with cramp. It was becoming increasingly clear that we were going to need to swap things around a bit if we were to have any chance of catching the leaders. So, I knew I was probably looking at 3 or perhaps 4 more laps. I ran pretty conservatively as I weighed up the prospect of another 20 or 30k - clocking 40:01. I also passed Simon from the leading team again - although he was struggling on the 2nd of a double lap that turned out to be his final lap of the event. The good news though was that we were now 7 minutes ahead.
The rest of the morning passed in a sleep-deprived, leg shredding blur. We fell behind again by about 13 minutes with around 5 hours to go and despite heriocs from everyone (particularly Alex P who chalked up 8 laps with an average time of 40 minutes) the gap stayed at about 15 minutes until the last lap when, knowing we were going to get second, Tom A went out easy to complete his 60km. I ended up abandoning my attempt to run my last two laps (6 and 7) back-to-back as my stomach rebelled against the extreme break in routine, and my legs begged for a rest. Alex P did the same straight afterwards - using my lap as a break in his double.
We finished 2nd (of 28) 5 x male teams. running 330km between the 5 of us in just over 24 hours - averaging around 45 minutes for each 10km. Alex ran 8 laps in an average time of just over 40 minutes - I ran 7 laps averaging 40:21. I am obviously pleased that Alex is my partner for the Gruesome Twosome in October (#fancyingourchances). As always at these things, we waited around for too long to collect our trophies as the rain came down hard. We then drove exhausted back up to Sheffield.
TR24 is a great event. A real carnival atmosphere with lots of friendly runners drinking, eating, camping,running a lot, and generally being merry. I guess we didn't get the full benefit of the socialising at the event because we were in 'competitive' mode (some runners were drinking a few beers between each lap!) Would I do it again? Never say never. But not if it clashes with Tramlines.
The second week of running school started with a threshold run. The plan was 10 minutes warm-up, 25 minutes just under threshold (140bpm or thereabouts), with an easy warm down. I was a bit wary of the session to be honest. My marathon training over the winter and spring typically involved at least one 10 mile run per week at or above this effort level, so 25 minutes seemed a bit 'light-touch'. But, with a hard short interval session scheduled the next evening, and another hard session planned for Thursday, I rolled with it. Trust the plan and all that.
The session went well - felt good to work with a group and the 25 minutes ticked by quickly at around 6:00 min/mile pace with Phil W using some interesting and well-thought out techniques to keep people at the right effort level.
Tuesday's session was plenty of core drills and then 8 x 300m off about 2 minutes rest. This session reminded me why I had committed to 'running school' - I am shit at the short stuff. I managed to average just under 50s for each 300m, but when the reps get this short, I noticeably drop down the pecking order. I just don't seem to be able to turn my legs over quickly enough and I just run out of oxygen.
Wednesday was a 'rest day' jog home with a rucksack full of laundry - reminding me what it is like to run heavy! Hated it to be honest and felt like a total waste of time as my legs and mind were too tired. Should have just walked. Luckily I had freshened up by Thursday and celebrated with a brisk 3 mile run to training, and a nice pyramid session with the club - run at around 90% effort to save some legs for the weekend.
Ah yes, the weekend. Thunder Run time. 24 hours of pure running madness - and worthy of its own post I reckon...
Running school started on the 9th July at EIS with Phil Williams and Dave Oldfield at the front of the class and most of the squad sat nervously on chairs around the EIS cafe. We had a quick chat through the thinking behind the 10 week training programme - with Phil explaining how the programme would focus specifically on improving our 5km times so that Sheffield RC could field a strong 6-stage squad at the Northern Athletics Relays in September. I covered the background in my previous post.
We then went outside to go through the drills we would be using throughout the programme. These split into two basic groupings. The first group were core drills - designed to strengthen the core (yep!) These included: walking lunges, high knee walks, cross overs, rom dead lift walks, medicine ball high knees, step ups, and zig zag hops. We rehearsed the drills and I was surprised at how much they pushed my heart rate up. I was also privately pleased that I wasn't the only one that looked like a clumsy fish out of water!
The second group of drills were power drills. These included: short hill sprints, zig zag hops, bounds, mini hurdles. fast feet, parachute sprints (literally pulling a parachute into the wind), and downhill sprints. I gulped a bit at these because I have avoided doing sprint work for years because it shreds my legs for a couple of days afterwards. Obviously the reason it hurts is because I don't do the short stuff often enough for my body to have adapted to the stress. I am going to have get through that. It might also finally give me some kind of sprint finish too. I do have a vague memory of being a pretty decent sprinter (28 years ago).
We chatted through what signing up to squad training means - attending at least 3 group sessions per week, following the plan, avoiding unscheduled races or major deviations from the plan that will limit the benefit that we'll get from the programme, and so on. We also sorted some administrative stuff out - shared google calendar with the training plan on it, whatsapp group to sort out meeting places for group runs, and so on.
The first week started on 13th July - although I started practising some of the drills during the previous week. Week 1 was planned as a 'low' load week but it was severely disrupted for me and most of the squad by the Doncaster Town Centre 5k race on Wednesday 15th July. Despite the unglamorous location, the Vets and Open races are local favourites and each race tempts out some of the best local runners; most of whom seem to afford it some respect and have a proper go at it.
I lined up in the Vets 5K race at 7:30pm and set off pretty hard with a front pack that included the incredible Anthony Whiteman - the UK's top ranked veteran runner (and still a very competitive senior runner). I stayed with the front pack for nearly the first mile at what seemed like a pretty comfortable pace before the front three started to pull away leaving me and Doncaster runner Simon Wright running together. We worked with each other throughout the race - exchanging 4th place a few times. I controlled my effort much better than at Damflask but I did have a coasting few minutes at the start of the third lap as I tired. In the latter stages of a 5K you should never be able to answer "no" to the question of "are you trying hard enough?" But I'll let myself off because I managed to stay ahead of Simon during the final 400m and record a big 5km personal best of 16:22.
The senior race was a great watch - with Anthony Whiteman fresh from winning the vets race in around 15:30, taking the senior race too - dipping under 15 minutes. Not a bad session - warm up - 2 x 5km at sub-5 minute mile pace off 15 minute rest - warm down.
It was also great to see seven Sheffield RC runners dip well under 17 minutes. The target for the project clearly is for these runners (and several hovering just above 17 minutes) to knock some chunks off their times over the summer. If we could get down to a mean average of 16 minutes for our top 6 we could make a decent impression on the northern relays. Also reminded me that I will have to work pretty hard to stay in that top 6.
|
| Competitor Name | Chip Time |
| Will Beauchamp | 00:15:33 |
| Joe Sweetnam-Powell | 00:16:01 |
| Alex Plant | 00:16:04 |
| Mike Tanner | 00:16:11 |
| Joe Fowler | 00:16:22 |
| Stuart Little | 00:16:39 |
| Alex Collings | 00:16:47 |
I was looking forward to chatting through the race at the squad's group run on Thursday but I ended up wrestling with a pre-teen temper tantrum at home and missed the start of the group run. So I headed out for the prescribed zone 2 run - a relatively comfortable, if boring 10 miles.
Friday's session was another zone 2 recovery run, which I decided to split am / pm to keep the mileage up whilst still leaving me fresh enough for Saturday's hard hill session.
Saturday's session was supposed to be core drills, 4 x 60m sprints, 8 x 2 min hill efforts, 10 minutes tempo. But I couldn't fit the session in amongst Lola's events at the Northern Premier Athletics league in Birkenhead. Nor could I find a long enough hill near the athletics stadium. So, I split the session into two chunks. The first was core drills, 4 x 60m sprints, jog to hill, 5 x 90s hill efforts, 3.5 mins tempo back to stadium to watch Lola win the long jump. I then jogged back to the hill, did another 5 x 90s hill efforts, jogged for a bit and then finished off with 8.5 minutes tempo. Returning in time to make sure Lola was ready for her 4 x 100m relays. I am no coach but the session seemed close enough to the prescribed one.
During the second set of hill reps I concentrated hard on holding the form I have been practising in the drills: pushing back the elbows, driving my feet through the ground from the glutes, and keeping my knees high. I also tried towards the end of the rep to breath fast and hard. This is quite a departure from my usual 'cover the ground as fast as possible whilst panting like an idiot' approach. I was surprised to find that focusing on form actually helped me get up the hill a second or two quicker. The tempo runs after the hill reps took my heart rate right up into race effort, but they ticked by at around or under 5:30 pace. Overall the session felt like a 'proper workout' - and it felt different enough to my usual training to make the new project feel 'real'.
Most of the squad met up on Sunday morning for an easy zone 1 / 2 run. I topped and tailed the session to keep the mileage up and enjoyed running super-easy in good company. The 15 miles ticked by comfortably at 7:30 pace - with heart rate averaging about 114bpm. Quite a departure from the Sunday runs before my marathon (typically 6:40ish at 134bpm). The idea behind the easy run today is to get the most out of the tempo session tomorrow. Let's see!
The start of a new running project with some fresh targets and ideas has finally got me back to updating my blog. I'll do a quick recap, introduce the new project, and then do another post to report on week 1 (with the usual techy training stuff). Subsequent blogs will cover the weeks of training - and the progress of the project overall. As ever, this should be interesting for those who like reading about running, and, errrm, not so interesting for everyone else!
The last month or so...
My last blog was on the weird weeks after London Marathon and my return to racing. Since then I guess I went into auto-pilot; reverting to something like my pre-marathon training schedule. This meant high mileage, am / pm 'double' recovery runs, quite a few harder tempo and progression runs, and so on. So, June was a pretty high mileage month - around 80 miles per week.
Towards the end of June, I was feeling good on my high mileage training - recovering super quick and feeling if anything fitter than before the marathon. I started thinking about another race to keep me ticking over whilst I worked out what to focus on next.
Only problem was I was a bit too, shall we say, 'heavy' for testing my racing legs out on a flat out road race. I find it too easy to over-compensate with the calories - even when I am running 80 miles per week. And, to be fair, post-London, I couldn't be arsed with watching the diet and making too much of a science out of what to eat. I had also enjoyed a fair few beers with friends. Priorities straight and all that.
In the end I decided to drop in on a small, local, hilly trail race - the midsummer mad dash. Deb and I both turned up on a lovely sunny June evening to the friendly start area with Isla along to offer support. We chatted to a few other runners and did a mile or so of warm-up (with Isla keeping pace easily!)
The race was just under 5 miles of hilly, rough trails. I set off pretty steady - wary of having 24 miles in my legs from the previous two days. At the top of the first (pig of a) climb, I had broken clear of the field, and that was basically the last I saw of them. The 'race' I had been after never really materialised and I ended up running a hard time trial. I won by around a minute.
Deb didn't enjoy the race very much (understatement) as she was suffering from stomach cramps. But, she still finished 2nd lady and we left for home with a bottle of wine each. Isla helped set the buffet out after the race - a couple of cakes must have slipped off the trays into her pocket.
The following week was busy with work - trips to London, late meetings etc. But I still managed to get another 80 miles in - with a nice hard 10 mile threshold run along the Thames river path (squeezed between meetings) a particular highlight.
The next week had two short races that I had been looking forward to a lot. The first was the Damflask relays - 4 x 3.5 mile legs in Low Bradfield. This is probably the highlight of the Sheffield running calendar for me - a great race organised by the amazing 'elders' at Sheffield Running Club and supported by club members that turn out whatever the weather to marshal and make races happen.
The second race was a 'secret' track mile race in Barnsley - secret in that I hadn't told anyone I was doing it because I was nervous about being a bit shit over the short distance and I didn't want to put any pressure on myself.
The Damflask relays started well. I was well rested having calmed the mileage down a bit in the preceding days and I was on the first leg meaning I had some decent company to run with. All was going great until the end of mile 2 when I literally blew up in the searing heat - I just couldn't get my breathing under control and I lost 20 seconds on the pack I had been with. I pulled myself together for the last half mile or so but it was too late. With hindsight I went out too quick - thinking I could stay with people who I knew would probably put 20 - 30 seconds or so on me over that distance. I'll try again next year!
The mile track race at Cudworth was neatly sandwiched between the kids athletics events at the 'Barnsley Open'. I had already watched Lola get to the final of the 100m (she finished 4th) and I was feeling up for another attempt at the 5-minute mile barrier that had eluded me for a few years. There was a bit of a cock-up with the pooling and I ended up in the 2nd race. But luckily a young 4:24 1500m runner from Leeds had suffered the same demotion and he set off hard enough to keep me going. I stayed on his shoulder and the first lap went by in about 1:10. The 2nd and the 3rd laps were with hindsight a bit lazy at 1:16, and I was having to adjust my footing to avoid running into the back of my young running mate. I should have probably gone past him on the back straight of lap 3 but I ended up waiting to make my move until near the start of lap 4 - at which point he kicked like a mule and beat me by a good 5 seconds despite me running a 1:10 final lap. Luckily my watch said 4:58 so I didn't give a toss about the result. Another target hit.
The afternoon was topped off nicely by Isla winning the ball throw and Lola beating Yorkshire's number one high jumper with a winning jump of 1.40m (big PB).
Watching Isla's video of my mile race reminded me (again) that I simply don't run like the decent runners. The vast majority of people that win stuff look like they have been trained to run. Obviously most have! Indeed, I have watched Lola get coached from her initial 'lent over falling over her shoes style' to her current classic runners form. Decent runners drive back powerfully with their feet, they kick their heels up, punch the air with their knees, jab backwards with their elbows, bring all of their major muscles into play; they 'look' like they are floating along.
I just look like a stiff. My legs stretched out in front of me, my left leg going wonky as soon as it is out of sight behind me, next to no knee lift, my glutes are passengers when they should be propelling me along. I could go on. It's testament to the body's ability to adapt that I can run quickly for any length of time at all. Well that, and, to borrow a phrase from Steve Way, because I have a heart like a big diesel engine.
The New Project
So, this brings me nicely to my new summer running project. I am going to train to be a runner. Not by running endless hundreds of miles, but by going back to running school. This is going to mean lots of drills, a major focus on form, hill reps, short sprint work, strength stuff, and so on. I am going to try and stop counting the miles and move my training schedule to a genuine 'light and shade' approach - a decent base of easy zone 1 and 2 runs, coupled with harder shorter sessions and drills on fresh(er) legs to build my strength, increase my resilience to injury, and improve my form.
I am not going to pretend that I can change my form completely though; I just want to see if I can squeeze a bit of extra benefit out of being stronger, and bring a few muscles into play that are not pulling their weight. This should help me improve my relatively poor times over short distances, and will hopefully, in time, translate into quicker times over the long distances too.
The good news, and what should make the summer more interesting for me and this blog, is that I am not going back to running school on my own. A squad of Sheffield RC's runners are all going to give it a go - with the prize for the six fastest over 5km being a place in the Sheffield RC squad for the Northern 6-Stage Relays in September. This adds a bit of spice to the training - particularly for me as I will have to work very hard to get in that top six.
So, what's next?
The first couple of weeks after the marathon were a bit weird. I was glad to finally rid my head of the endless deliberations and nervous thoughts that had plagued and distracted me for months. I was also well pleased with what was undoubtedly (and statistically!) my best ever race performance. I did feel a little bit lost without having a big target race to aim at, but, at the same time, I felt 'free' of the expectations I had placed on myself.
Recovery
My recovery plan was simple: take it slow, gently ease back into a few miles, enjoy good food and beer without worrying about 'race weight', cross-train a bit in the gym, and do no pacey running at all for a couple of weeks. Wait for the bounce to come back and then think about what to aim at next. Maybe try and get that 5K time down over the summer, somewhere a bit closer to 16 minutes?
Recovery running started on Tuesday evening about 54 hours after the marathon finished with a very light jog down the canal whilst the kids were at athletics. Jesus, I was bloody tired. At the end of the second mile, I was shot and if I wasn't two miles from where I needed to be, I would have stopped. The third and fourth mile were unpleasant and painful. Stupid mistake number 1.
The next afternoon (I know...) I did 20 minutes very easy on the gym bike, and 1.8 miles on the treadmill. Shot, again! I remember literally saying to myself "what f**king good is this doing, you idiot?" Stupid mistake 2 made, I got off the treadmill and did nothing for a few days apart from walk the mile to and from work. I did feel a pang of jealousy whilst marshaling the South Yorks 5-mile road league round Bradfield that evening though - looked fun.
The following Bank Holiday Monday, after 5 days of rest, I was feeling a bit more lively, so I headed out for one of my favourite loops into the countryside - a 9.5 mile round trip round redmires (Roper Hill). Felt pretty good actually, not too stiff and nice to be out again enjoying running across the hilltops over Sheffield; it is actually a really nice thing to do.
And, then someone objected to being overtaken coming down porter valley and before you can say 'grow up you're nearly 43', the pace dropped well below 6 minute miles and I'm hammering down the valley like a 20 year old fell runner. Stupid mistake 3. My quads were not recovered enough for that kind of descent - muscle soreness arrived the next morning.
The rest of the week saw a return to daily running and a total mileage of around 65 miles which I have maintained since. It was Friday - nearly 2 weeks after the marathon - before I got any sort of bounce back in my legs though.
What is this 'racing'?
Two and a half weeks after the marathon, I felt ready to try a hard run, so I dropped in on the final 5 mile road league fixture of the season at Oxspring. I settled in early with a pack of people who I would expect to race with and ran sensibly enough. During the continuous descent of mile 5, my legs started to wobble, and, not being one for getting downhill very quickly, I dropped behind the pack a bit to finish 10th overall in a new 5 mile PB of 27:32. I should have been happy, but I knew I was 15 - 20 seconds slower than where I should have been. More recovering to do I reckon.
A few days of light recovery running later, I was on the start line of the vets masters relays in Sutton Coldfield. Fabulous venue for relay running, and always a great event. A review of the race, which I won't repeat here, is available on the club website. The run was hard, but I felt fitter than at the 5-miler and clocked 16:14 for the undulating 3 mile course. I was particularly pleased to kick the last mile in 5:16. It felt like I was getting the benefit of all of that marathon training whilst finally escaping from the fatigue caused by the race itself.
The next week saw a return to my usual training cycle, which I won't bore anyone with here (all of my training is on strava).
Weight for next time...
I have had quite a bit of contact and positive feedback on this blog, asking me when I am going to update it again, and whether I am going to write a bit more about my improvement over the last few years, tips on weight loss, training etc. Flattering to think that anyone finds my ramblings, which I write as a pretty self-indulgent public diary, at all interesting. There are also far better runners than me blogging about training (I like Jason Cherriman's open and honest blog for example).
I did actually sit down to write this blog because I said a couple of months ago (vlm training week 12) that I would return to the subject of 'racing weight' when I had a bit more time. And so I shall, but not here because I have rambled on for a few hundred words about recovery and getting back to racing.
Amazing how quickly the time goes when you finally get the peace and quiet to capture your thoughts... Lola spent hours this evening before bed noisily banging about the house moaning about her mobile getting dropped in the sea earlier today (can I have an i-phone 5s dad?) Deb is out re-living her youth at a De La Soul gig in town. Tomorrow involves an early treadmill session, and then a drive to Preston where Lola is competing for City of Sheffield in the Northern Premier athletics league (75m, long jump and 100m relay). I'm hoping she gets a PB for the 75m and the LJ - it might be enough to get her to forget, for a few minutes, that her phone is swimming with the fishes. I'm hoping the excitement will help me continue to ignore that niggle in my upper left leg. It's not been right since before London. Might need to admit defeat at some point and book into the physio.
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!
