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Showing posts with label Recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Recovery. Show all posts

Wake up call?

I skipped the run back along Wamberal Beach to Terrigal
and ran on the road instead

Yesterday's easy 6km jog was anything but easy.  It was humid, which didn't help, but I felt lethargic from the outset and my legs just didn't want to run.

Today's Saturday Trotters' run was Enzo's Edventure, a particularly challenging 15km to which my fatigued legs were not looking forward.  I told myself that once the adrenalin and competitive juices started pumping I would find that I wasn't as tired as I thought.  I ran 3km to warm up but still didn't feel very inspired and then when we set out on our "Edventure" I struggled up the early steep hills, further back in the field than I have become accustomed to recently. Reminding myself that I'm supposed to be tapering, and hoping that I would find it easier as I warmed up, I tried not to worry and just settle into a comfortable pace.

As the run wore on, I did start catching people, including some of the early front-runners, but never felt comfortable.  My legs feel strong, but tired, and I'm not moving freely.  I also felt some twinges in my hamstrings on some of the steeper descents, possibly sciatic, and there's an unwelcome stiffness in my lower back.  I wimped out on the last section along the beach from Wamberal and ran the road alternative, telling myself that cambered soft sand was unwise when my bad right knee was also hurting, but I was probably just looking for an excuse not to make the run any harder than it already was.  My time of 1:15:00 for just under 15km wasn't as bad as feared, but wasn't achieved easily.

I was going to run 20-25km easy on the road tomorrow, but now think the smarter strategy would be to do a much shorter run, or maybe just a walk.  I will feel guilty about missing a longer run, but it's hard to see how missing it will be detrimental to my fitness for next weekend's Half Marathon.  I definitely need to freshen up.

Success?

Handing over to Les at the second change-over in this
morning's Club relay
[Photo courtesy of Jenny Barker]

It's a bit sad when you classify a race as a success because you didn't get injured, but that's how I feel about this morning's 5km leg in the Trotters annual Tag Team Time Trial.  Somehow I didn't record my time on my Garmin, but estimate it was about 21:00.  I could feel my right hamstring tugging a bit after 2km so backed off a little, but managed to maintain a good pace.  It wasn't a stellar performance because two runners I might hope to beat on a good day, Graham and Damo, both started around me and ran a little faster.  However, given my body hasn't fully recovered from last Sunday's trail marathon, I'm pretty happy.

It didn't look so rosy when I started my warm-up soon after 5am in the dark and light rain.  The first few kilometres were slow and hard work, and it was hard to believe that yesterday's easy 6.5km jog had finished with optimism that I would be moving freely today.  However, I stuck to my plan of running about 10km before the relay leg, and by the end of that time was happier with my flexibility and speed.

After the relay leg, I jogged 3km back home, and although my legs were tired, I don't feel like I have done any damage.

Nagging concern

Those were the days!  On my way to a Personal Best 14:26
5,000m in the 1977 Victorian Interclub A Grade Final

I ran a little harder this morning on my 10km to see whether my legs had loosened up at all.  The pace was faster, and though moving more freely than yesterday, I don't feel ready to run hard over a short distance as will be required in Saturday's club relay.  There's 48 hours to go, and with just light training planned, that may be enough to loosen up.

Getting a massage was suggested by a friend, but it doesn't seem sensible to try something new at this juncture.  I think I'm too "old school" anyway, and have a bias towards letting my body sort itself out.  I did resolve while running, however, to find out if there was anybody willing to take my place in the relay and am pursuing that option.

I also decided that if I am going to run, then I will warm up for at least 10km beforehand, including the planned run-throughs, and also that I won't try to run faster than a comfortable pace, particularly in the first kilometre.  After all, the event is just a bit of fun and there's not a lot riding on the result.

Back on track?

My UK visitor, Liam, the son of my long-time
running buddy, Keith, nears the top of the
challenging Hastings Road hill this morning

I've missed a couple of days of blogging while I had some guests staying.  On Monday, I just did some walking as intended and was pleased that my troublesome heel didn't seem to have deteriorated as a result of Sunday's long run.  I did, however, have some tightness in the lower hamstrings, the same places as cramp threatened many times on Sunday.

I warmed up for over 3km on Tuesday before joining the usual group of Trotters for a 10km run incorporating a few large hills.  The warm-up did the trick and I felt surprisingly good during the run.  My thinking is that, although the Sunday run was thoroughly exhausting, the exhaustion was primarily caused by dehydration.  The dehydration compelled me to run more slowly than would otherwise have been the case, and consequently my body wasn't as trashed as it might have been.  Once my fluid levels were back to normal I was not as tired and sore as feared.

I ran 14km this morning, still somewhat bothered by the hamstring tightness and pain in the right heel, but feel that both issues are improving.

My entry for the Bogong to Hotham 64km trail race in early January has been accepted and becomes my target race in this training cycle.  As part of my planned preparation, I would really like to run in the Deep Space Mountain Marathon, near Canberra, this coming Sunday.  However, I'm reluctant to race if I have any lingering heel or hamstring soreness because I know I will be going all out and risk more serious injury.  Fortunately, it's a low-key event that I can enter at the last minute, so really don't have to commit yet.  My rational self says that over the next four days both injuries will improve sufficiently to let me run.

Next six months

Paul Every, Phil "Spud" Murphy and Jan Herrmann, running
legends all, at the summit of Mt Bogong on the way to Mt
Hotham in the 2005 Bogong to Hotham (I'm the photographer).

As mentioned previously, the reason I have restarted posting to this blog is that I'm now quite fit and think that if I can train consistently for the next six months, I can run a good marathon.  Maybe even near 3 hours.

I've always been a bit "old school" about marathon racing, believing that you need about three months between peak efforts  -  3-4 weeks to recover, 6-8 weeks of serious training, and 2-3 weeks of taper.  Of course, the running calendar is never that neat, so I will to focus on three races in which I want to do well over the next six months (the last being the marathon), and build my training around those.

Assuming I can get my entry accepted, the first will be the Rooftop Run (aka Bogong to Hotham) on 10 January, a 64km trail race across Victoria's High Plains.  The course is very challenging, with an aggressive cut-off at 34km, and the scenery is spectacular.  I have run it a few times before (see here), but not recently.

The second race will be the annual Six Foot Track Marathon (45km) in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney on 12 March, the largest ultramarathon in Australia, and a race I have run well a few times (and badly some others).  Like the Bogong to Hotham, the course is tough and the scenery beautiful.  It attracts the best runners in the state and has great atmosphere.

2005 Bogong to Hotham finishers.


For the marathon, I wanted to find a race that had a fast certified course, and plenty of sub-3 hour finishers.  However, one major factor has limited my choice.  For much of this year, I have been looking forward to spending three or more months hiking in Ireland during the northern spring of 2016.  Originally, I was going to fly out shortly after Six Foot Track, so I would be back in Australia around the end of June - plenty of time to prepare for the Great North Walk 100s (GNW100s) in mid-September, for which I am Race Director.  Now that a road marathon is on my agenda, my hiking will need to start later, but not too late or I won't be back in time for the GNW100s preparation.

I have decided that I can get by on four weeks recovery from Six Foot Track, arguing to myself that trail races aren't as hard on the body as road marathons.  I considered the races available in Australia, but none were suitable.  The Canberra Marathon is on 10 April, but the new course is undulating and not fast.  Looking to Europe, I found the Rotterdam Marathon and the Greater Manchester Marathon, also both on 10 April, and have decided that Greater Manchester is the best choice.  It's big (~8,000 finishers), but not as big as Rotterdam, has a flat certified course, and plenty of sub-3 hour finishers (~500).

Now I just have to get to the start in good shape and hope the weather obliges.

Self-Management

The Trotters ready for Girrakool to Patonga
I like to think one reason for my last six months of almost uninterrupted running is that I have been giving myself longer to recover from hard runs and trying to mix trail running with road running. (Of course, it might all be luck!).

Last Sunday, I ran the annual Terrigal Trotters' Girrakool to Patonga 25km trail run through Brisbane Water National Park. It's a course that has everything - views, waterfalls, rock ledges, mountains, fern-filled valleys, caves, single-track and fire-trail - and is very popular with club members and me. If you are fit, it is very runnable, and in parts, exhilarating.

Usually on trail runs these days, I'm careful not to run technical track too quickly or descend too hard for fear of jarring my lower back and/or damaging my right heel, not to mention the other obvious risks such as falling or crashing into a tree. However, with some trail races planned over the next three months, I wanted to run hard, and gave myself permission to take some risks. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, particularly on the descents, where landing decisions are made in mid-air, the trees and rocks whistle by, and the adrenalin pumps. Apart from some minor missteps, I survived without incident and recorded what for me was a fast time.

Reaching the bottom of the last descent at Patonga beach.
Since Sunday, my body has been stiff and sore, particularly when rising in the morning.  My legs feel lethargic and my training times have been slow. But all of this was expected and I have been telling myself that by Saturday, when I hope to run a reasonable time in the Trotters' monthly time trial, I will have loosened sufficiently to be competitive. After this morning's 10km plod, I'm not so sure, but I need to have faith in my plan and approach.

Having run long on the trail last weekend, I intended to run long on the road this weekend to give my ankles and heel a rest. However, I have just learned that friends are planning a long trail run through Bouddi National Park, one of my favourites, on Sunday morning. It's a big temptation to join them, and I would probably survive unscathed, but I know that I would be wiser to stick with the road run and my longer term strategy.  We'll see!

Every now and then

Some of the Terrigal Trotters team on the way to the
Woodford to Glenbrook 25km Trail Race.

It is nine months since my last Woodford to Glenbrook 25km trail run (it was postponed three months last year because of flooding), and my life during those nine months has been quite eventful, particularly on the health front.  Five months ago, when dealing with the Deep Vein Thrombosis, Pulmonary Embolism and Atrial Flutter, I was telling myself that if I could just run again, even a few kilometres a week, I would be happy.  I did not give myself any chance of running Woodford to Glenbrook this year, so was very happy to not only be on the starting line yesterday, but feeling well enough to race.

My right Achilles tendon and heel remain very painful, but otherwise I have been feeling fit, so I was keen to see what I could do without any great pre-race expectations.  Last year I ran 2:01 and was second in the 60+ age group.  I hoped to go sub-2:00 this year and win the 60+.

It was a cold morning in the Blue Mountains with an icy wind, but the sun was shining and once we started running the cold didn't seem so bad.  I started steadily with the goal of running within myself for the first 10 kilometres, and that approach worked well, though left me weaving through many of the 380-strong field on the rocky undulating fire trail.  I didn't push it up the hills, trying to keep my breathing regular, but still sensitive to a pressure I could feel in the centre of my chest as my heart rate rose.  This pressure may always have been there, but would have been unnoticed a year ago.  A little worrying nevertheless.

A whale wallowed just off Copa beach during my
slow recovery walk this morning.

Even running within myself, I was gaining a few places on the climbs, but was doing even better on the flats and steep technical downhills.  As last year, I really enjoyed letting myself go down the hills, trusting myself to react quickly enough on the loose rocky track as I slalomed through slower runners.  It made me feel young again, though in a concession to my health issues, I was wearing a medical wristband alerting any paramedics to the Warfarin (blood thinner) I was taking.  Cuts would bleed profusely and a bad head knock could risk a brain haemmorhage.

The last 10 kilometres of the race was on a gradual downhill section that seemed never-ending.  By this time, my bad Achilles was very painful and I fought to maintain an even stride though every step hurt badly.  I still managed to catch a few more people, though lost a couple of places in the last few hundred metres on the race to the finish line.

I was surprised and pleased to see my time of 1:52, and later to find I had won the 60+ age group by 20 minutes.  A very satisfying day, though walking today has been very painful on my sore heel.  I see a specialist this week to review my blood clot issues and hopefully get off the Warfarin.  I'm not getting my hopes up.

You never can tell

Sunday morning, before my 28km run, was spent helping
at a drink station for Terrigal Trotters Bay to Bay
Running Festival.

When the alarm sounded at 5:00am, unusually for me, I lay in bed for a couple of minutes pondering whether I would get up.  I was tired, it was very cold and dark, and I dreaded putting my right foot on the ground, sure that the heel and Achilles tendon would be painful.  But, my car was booked in early for some repairs and I knew that if I was to get a run in this morning, I needed to get up.

The first runner through in the Half
Marathon was Olympian, Martin Dent.

I lay in bed rationalising.  It was easy to justify giving the run a miss.  Instead, I could go for a walk while the car was serviced.  After all, it was only nine days since I ran a marathon and there was nothing to lose by missing another day's training, especially after labouring through a 28km run on Sunday following the tempo 11km Trotters run on Saturday.  Also, my right heel and Achilles tendon have been particularly painful the last three weeks and would benefit from another day of not running.  It wasn't hard to come up with reasons to roll over for another hour or two of sleep, and the advice I was giving myself was the same as I would have given to another runner in my situation.

The leading runners in the later-starting 12km event
(yellow singlets) catch one of the slower Half Marathon
runners.

But a little voice in my head told me I was being soft.  That if I stopped thinking about it and just did what I needed to do, I would be home, with the run done, before I knew it.  I rolled out of bed, went through my usual exercise routine, did a few small chores and was out the door soon after 5:30am.  It was dark and cold, and in the far distance I could hear the surf pounding on the Copa beach.  My first few steps weren't as hard as I expected, nor was my right heel as sore as anticipated (I had switched to some older Nike Pegasus shoes that I hadn't worn for a while), and my spirits lifted.

I wasn't running very fast, but I was moving OK.  As the kilometres passed, I felt better and better and was actually enjoying the run through the dark suburban streets with just a glimmer of light beginning to brighten the eastern skies.  My heel got a little sorer, but was nowhere near as painful as it had been on the weekend runs.  I finished feeling refreshed and glad that I had run.  It's easy to justify a day off, and maybe it wouldn't have made any difference if I had missed the run, but I have seldom regretted forcing myself out the door.  And I know I will be happier today for having done it.

Canberra

Sunrise over Canberra from Red Hill.

I have been in Canberra the last few days, sadly, for the funeral of a loved and respected uncle.  A silver lining to the trip was the chance to go for a few short runs in the southern suburbs of Canberra along roads and trails I used to run when staying with my Canberra relatives many years ago.

The trail atop Red Hill.

Canberra is an ideal running location, with an excellent network of scenic bike paths complemented by trails in some of the hill and mountain reserves that dot the urban area.  Even running along the suburban streets is a pleasure with their wide grassy nature strips and mature native trees, although you need to be navigationally careful.  Straight roads are a rarity and most roads swing in arcs in one direction or another.  It's easy to lose your sense of direction.  A bonus for Canberra running is the weather, which is perfect for much of the year.  Humidity tends to be low and temperatures generally moderate, though you so need to be prepared for some hot weather in summer and sub-zero temperatures in winter.

Canberra suburbs from Red Hill.

I ran the same 10km loop, but in alternate directions, on each of the last two days in temperatures of around 2°C.  The course was a nice mix of those suburban streets and trails in the Red Hill Reserve where I saw a number of kangaroos at close quarters.  From the summit of Red Hill I enjoyed the expansive views of Canberra and its landmarks.  The runs were most enjoyable, though I could feel some marathon fatigue in the quads.  I know there are many other options for great runs in Canberra, short and long, and I have still only sampled a few.

Parliament House and the Canberra Central Business
District from Red Hill.

After the Macleay River Marathon last Sunday, I walked for exercise the following two days and then have run without straining since.  My right heel still bothers me quite a bit, but it's hard to know what are the most significant pain exacerbators.  I have been swapping the shoes around that I wear during the days and have been running in my Nike Pegasus.  I'm starting to think that even wearing the heavily-cushioned Hoka shoes for casual wear is a bad idea because I'm getting pain just walking around.  I think I'll stick to the Nike Pegasus for both casual wear and running for the next week or two and see if that makes a positive difference.

Trying to freshen up

This morning's run followed Gardiners Creek.

Most of my running focus this week has been on recovery from last weekend.  After struggling through the 40km trail run on the Sunday with some kind of bruised heel, I know I need to get it right if I want to have any hope of running a marathon in ten days time.

Gardiners Creek wetlands.

On Tuesday, I drove down to Melbourne for a family occasion this coming weekend, so used that as an excuse to have a second day off running.  I was hoping that the 11km I ran yesterday would be easier, but my legs were stiff and the heel a little painful, though improving.  Today, I tried a relatively flat 16.5km run in Melbourne's south-eastern suburbs, and though I felt strong enough, my legs were still heavy and my heel a little sore.

My experience in the past has been that if I just train steadily and moderately for a couple of weeks I freshen up and the injuries abate.  With luck, that's what will happen this time as well.  I'll run an easy 5km tomorrow and then do a longer run on Saturday as my last before the marathon......if I run it.

Good and bad

Narrow windblown ridges.

My fears about running hard twice on the same weekend were realised, to a degree.  My first steps when I arose yesterday, were quite painful.  I expected my right Achilles tendon, which is chronically injured, to be sore, but was unpleasantly surprised to find my whole heel felt tender and bruised when I put weight on it.  It wasn't totally debilitating, so I crossed my fingers and left to join my club-mates for our annual Wakefield to Congewai 40km trail run along The Great North Walk.

Dank dark rainforest gullies.

Right from the start my heel was painful as I ran, and the further I went the more painful it got.  It wasn't bad enough to stop me running, but it made me limp and shorten my stride, both impacting my running efficiency and my speed.  I tried to avoid forcing it, and resigned myself to hobbling along at a slower pace.

Sandstone caves.

The pain wasn't sufficient, however, to distract from a challenging and rewarding run through beautiful forest terrain.  There were narrow windblown ridges, dank dark rainforest gullies, sandstone caves, breathtakingly steep hills, and glorious vistas.  It was fun to be out there and sharing it with like-minded friends.

Glorious vistas.

Also on the positive side, although running inefficiently, my legs didn't tire as much as expected.  Even towards the end, I felt I was strong enough to step up the pace if not for the painful heel.  This tells me that the previous two weekends of long road runs have yielded benefits.

I now have a decision to make about the Macleay River Marathon in two weeks time.  I still haven't entered, and will leave it a little longer.  I figure that I need to taper anyway, and am hoping that my heel will improve with two days of walking, and careful running thereafter.  I will also wear my Hoka shoes as much as possible in the hope that their extra cushioning hastens the healing process.  My sense is that if I can get to the starting line of the marathon with almost no pain in the right heel, I will be able to make the distance and finish with dignity.  That's the plan, anyway, and I'll enter the marathon later in the week if I feel significant improvement.

A single kilometre

Single track running on
Kincumba Mountain.

This morning's Terrigal Trotters "Erina Bush" 12.5km run is yet another of my favourites.  It has a variety of terrain, including roads, trail, hills and flat, and is a true test of fitness.  I usually look forward to the run and particularly the one kilometre of very technical single track that climbs gradually through the Kincumba Mountain Reserve.

It seems strange that there's a single kilometre I look forward to in a much longer run but this little kilometre is magic.  You have to keep your wits about you to maintain a good pace while carefully picking where you put your feet.  We run it at dawn so the forest is just waking up, with a few bird calls to accompany the heavy breathing of runners.  There is a fairly solid hill before this section is reached, so it's a challenge to maintain momentum when you are already tired.  But the clincher probably is, that as a sixty-three year old, if my fitness is good, it makes me feel young and competitive again.  I'm still quite good on technical track when running hard (though I usually avoid running hard unless it's a race), and the closeness of the bush on each side of the trail makes you feel like you are running fast.  When I'm in shape, I can still match it with most of my club-mates on this section, which is then followed by one of the best gradual fire-trail descents you can find on the Central Coast.

Unfortunately, for this morning, I worked hard not to be competitive on this favourite run, because I have a 40 kilometre trail run tomorrow.  I knew that if I exhausted myself on the uphills, and pounded my body on the downhills, I would struggle tomorrow.  I held back, though still probably ran a little faster than was wise.  Tomorrow will tell the tale.

Leg strength and endurance

Reaching John O'Groats at the end of my hike from
Lands End in 2010.

This morning's 11.5km run was a bit of a grind.  Having had two relatively easy days in a row, I was hoping to feel a bit fresher, but my legs remain heavy with fatigue from Monday's long road run.  The slow recovery tells me I still have some way to go to full running fitness.  I'm simplifying, but my experience is that there are really three phases to regaining fitness after an extended period off running.

Camping while hiking the length of the Australian Alps
Walking Track in 2011.

The first phase, which takes me about three weeks these days (one or two weeks when I was younger), is getting to the point where I feel like a runner again.  It requires my joints and ligaments to loosen up, and my muscles to strengthen, sufficient to regain my running posture and balance.  At the end of the phase I can run smoothly again, but have poor stamina and slow recovery.

The second phase, which now takes me a couple of months, depending on how long I had off, sees the gradual return of cardiovascular capability and muscle strength sufficient to run reasonable times and perhaps be competitive, but my leg recovery rate is poor.  I can run hard one day, or up the first hill, but it's hard to back up for the second.  It is a frustrating time because I know the fitness has in large part returned, but I am still missing something.

Crossing a Swiss mountain pass while hiking the Via
Alpina in 2012.

The third phase is full fitness.  I will know when I get there because I'll comfortably back up from a tempo run with Terrigal Trotters on a Saturday morning with a long run on the Sunday.  I will be able to run up an early hill feeling like there's another gear if I need it, and then be almost fully recovered by the next.  There will be days when I feel like I can run forever.  Amongst my club-mates, there are some in this phase.  They run confidently, knowing they are competitive and can deal with whatever terrain and challenges come their way.

Taking a break while hiking the length of the Hume & Hovell
Track in 2013.

The main factor for me in transitioning from the second to third phases, is leg strength and endurance - the ability of my legs to absorb considerable pounding over a long period.  For me, it is achieved through long miles, usually on the road, and that's why I'm persevering with long road runs, even though they are knocking me around.  There have been occasions, on return from long hiking trips, when I've started my comeback with the leg strength/endurance already there and have achieved good competitive fitness much earlier.  That's not the case this time around, and I think it will be another few months and more long runs before I get there, all going well.

Chubb Trail

Chubb Trail.

St Louis is a long way from anywhere, be it beaches, snowfields or National Parks.  And of all the places I have lived, St Louis provided the fewest good trail running opportunities.  That's not to say there aren't any, but they are not particularly long, nor very inspiring.

Chubb Trail.

There were a few I visited regularly when I got sick of running in the suburbs and local parks, and perhaps my favourite was the Chubb Trail which was only half an hour's drive from our home.  It was about 7 miles in length and my usual run would be out-and-back for 14 miles, and occasionally I would tack on the Castlewood Loop for an extra 3 miles.  The Trail, which generally followed the course of the Meramec River, started with a hilly section in Lone Elk County Park and ended with a climb to the turnaround in West Tyson County Park.  In between, in the river valley, it was flat, passing through an old farming area which is now a mix of forest and prairie.  It was all very runnable and the hills weren't too bad.

I wouldn't call it an exciting course, but I have pleasant memories of running there late on a weekend afternoon, with the sun setting as I finished, and in very chilly autumnal weather on leaf-covered trail.  One of my old friends from St Louis still runs the Chubb Trail regularly and I doubt it has changed much in the seventeen years since I was last there.

Running for me today was around my regular Thursday morning 11km circuit after the morning track session I supervise at Terrigal Haven.  I was hoping to feel fresher, but the legs were heavy and motivation was low.  I didn't push it in the hope I will recover some zest by the weekend.

Thinking the unthinkable

Katandra Reserve this morning.

After dropping my car off for a service in North Gosford this morning, I ran an easy 20km home via a route that maximised trail and minimised suburbia.  It was another beautiful morning for a run - mild and sunny with wisps of fog in some valleys.  Despite residual fatigue from Sunday's 37km road run, my legs are feeling stronger and I spent much of today's run pondering my running objectives for the next six months.

Clyde Road, this morning.

Incredibly, I'm getting to the point where the sub-3 hour marathon goal is again entering the fringes of my thinking.  I can't quite believe I'm even contemplating it, but assuming my heart problem at Christmas was just a blip, resolved by the Cardioversion, then why is a sub-3 less likely this year than last.  I fully accept it's a remote possibility, but it makes no sense to rule it out.  But maybe a change of approach is needed.  Since resuming running eleven weeks ago, I have been remarkably (for me) sensible in my training.  I haven't aggressively ramped up my mileage, I took a few days off for a minor injury, and I have mostly avoided back-to-back quality (fast or long) training days.  Although it has taken a bit longer than in the past, there has been steady improvement in my speed and endurance and that seems set to continue.

View from Clyde Road this morning.

My new thinking is that I should avoid focussing single-mindedly on the sub-3 hour goal.  Last year, I was trying to run as many kilometres a week as my ageing body could handle, and feeling pressure to improve my base speed.  However, when I look at how I'm running at the moment, and what training I was doing when at my best early last year, I was pretty much running for enjoyment, without sweating on kilometres or speed.

Kincumba Mt this morning.

Although a sub-3 hour marathon is not easy, there were times in my life when I could do it comfortably.  Maybe I need to fine-tune my approach to have fewer quality sessions (fast or long) and run those sessions fresher.  Maybe I also need to avoid targeting a particular marathon and, instead, when I think I'm ready, find one.

It seems to be worth trying, though it runs counter to the approach adopted most of my serious running career.  Counter-intuitively, it may require more self discipline for me than the high-mileage run-regardless regime of the past.

Hyde Park

Hyde Park, London.

In October 1987, I started a new job, the first day of which saw my family and I on a plane to London from Melbourne.  Temporarily, my new company rented accommodation in South Kensington where we lived for three months, our five-month old baby sleeping on a small mattress behind the sofa in the tiny apartment.

We were close to Hyde Park, and my morning run became a double circuit of the historic park.  It was an interesting time to arrive in England, just two weeks after the Great Storm of 1987, which felled an estimated 15 million trees across the country.  Hyde Park had suffered greatly and walking around the park the weekend after our arrival, was both awe-inspiring, to see what nature was capable of, and saddening, to see so many gracious old trees upended.

Broad Walk, Hyde Park.

Fortunately for my running, the main paths were soon cleared, especially since it was winter and my morning runs were in darkness.  There was some lighting in the park, but not very much, and generally I just had to trust that if I stayed in the middle of the path, I wouldn't encounter any obstacles.  Occasionally, I would meet a runner or walker coming the other way, and a couple of times last-second evasive action had to be taken.  It was in the era before headlamps, and I never carried lights, or worried about light-coloured clothing.

As you would expect in a London winter, there were plenty of cold, foggy and/or drizzly, mornings but strangely they are the ones for which I'm most nostalgic.  That weather, darkness, London, and running, are inextricably linked in my memory.

Hyde Park at night.

The 14km course was relatively flat, and at the time I was quite fit, so usually ran it in around one hour.  The run to the Park along the broad Exhibition Road, passed between the historic Natural History and Victoria & Albert Museums.  It was very gradually uphill, and that always helped me warm up.  By the time I got to Hyde Park, I was rolling and always worked hard on the gradual climb up Broad Walk to Kensington Palace, and then, after cruising along the northern side parallel to Bayswater Road to Speakers Corner, would stretch out down the eastern edge of the Park next to Park Lane.  Occasionally, I would see horse guards exercising on South Carriage Drive in the early light before turning out of the Park and heading home.  In later years, when I no longer lived in the UK, I would always try and get in one run around Hyde Park whenever visiting London for work.

After yesterday's exertion, I walked an easy 5km today.  My right Achilles tendon is still sore, but I'm hopeful it will have improved enough to run tomorrow.

No fun

Gosford waterfront is on the Round the Bay course.
(© BigRay)

Nearly three and a half hours of running and can't say I felt good for, or enjoyed, a single step......except for the last one.  That's sometimes the way with long runs.

If I'm honest with myself, it was a bit stupid to try and run the 36.5km Round the Bay course the day after running 14km quite hard with Terrigal Trotters.  I'm not fully fit, and it takes time to recover from hard runs.  It would have been better to try tomorrow and have an easy recovery day today, but I sort of trapped myself by booking my car in for a service on Wednesday.  That matters because the service centre is about 20km from home, and I planned to run home for training (and catch the bus back later to pick the car up).  If I did my really long run tomorrow, then there would be just one recovery day before the 20km run, which is also not really enough for me these days.

The course crosses the Rip Bridge
(© Rob N_!)
Anyway, unpleasant as it was, the long run is done with no apparent ill effects.  The reason it was so hard primarily relates to gait.  Having run hard yesterday, I was dealing with two issues.  Firstly, there was general fatigue and stiffness.  Yesterday, I was running around 4mins/km for some parts, my fastest for months.  I was striding out more and holding my centre of gravity higher and further forward.  That was pushing the envelope of my current fitness, engaging muscles and stretching ligaments more than has happened for some time.  It's not surprising that stiffness and fatigue follows.  But that's good, because as my body responds to these forgotten stresses, by building muscle and increasing the range of movement, I will become a better runner.  In the short-term, however, the fatigue and stiffness impacts my stride length and I run less efficiently.  The consequence of that is a slower pace, discomfort, and even more fatigue than usual.

The course passes along the Tascott waterfront.
(© John Ford)

Secondly, my chronic right Achilles tendon was quite sore after yesterday's run and still painful this morning.  Stretching hurts it more, so subconsciously my gait alters to lessen the pain.  Generally, this means a shorter stride and splaying my feet more.  The latter has, over the years, caused chronic problems with my right knee, so I'm very conscious these days of not splaying the foot too much.  The result is more Achilles pain, a shorter stride, and an inefficient gait.

On the positive side, I'm pretty sure I will start to feel the benefit of today's run by the end of the week.  Three and a half hours of repetitive pounding on hard flat surfaces was hard on the legs, but I know from experience my legs will grow stronger as a consequence.

Capitol Reef

Capitol Reef National Park.

A place I would like to revisit for some longer trail runs is Capitol Reef National Park in Utah.  When we camped there in January, 1986, in the middle of winter, we had the place to ourselves.  It was so cold, the National Parks Service wasn't even bothering to collect fees.  We were running the Las Vegas Marathon a few days later, so were in the taper phase and I limited myself to a 10.5 mile circuit from the deserted campground.  It was, however, a memorable run to this day.

The view from the Frying Pan Trail.

I set out soon after 8am on a clear morning in sub-freezing temperatures, but soon warmed up on the Cohab Canyon Trail which zig-zagged up 100m in the first 500m, and then continued climbing to the Frying Pan Trail and the rocky heights at nearly 2000m altitude.  The views across the rocky, canyon-laced, plateau in the clear cold air were fantastic.  In many places I was more or less running cross country on rock slabs, soaking up the vistas, and savouring that feeling of being the only person on earth in this superb country.

The Grand Wash Trail.

After about 7km I joined the sandy Grand Wash Trail which followed a dry creek bed at the bottom of a sometimes narrow canyon, dominated by towering rocky walls.  Around 10km, I joined a park road in the Fremont River valley and followed that back to near the campground before rejoining the Cohab Canyon Trail for a short sharp climb over a knoll and back down to the campground.  It was only 10.5 miles, but because I was in the taper phase, I was feeling fresh and strong and that may explain why the run lives in my memory as such an enjoyable experience.

Cohab Canyon.

There are longer trails in Capitol Reef National Park and I look forward to returning there one day to check them out.

For today, I ran 10km, and although I laboured early until my Achilles tendon warmed up, I felt stronger than expected two days after a long trail run.  My time was quickish for this regular garbage run, despite getting struggling a bit on the climb up Avoca steps near the end, so I was happy.

Runner's guilt

Circular Quay in Sydney this morning.

Almost every regular runner knows about runner's guilt - that feeling you have when you miss a scheduled run.  Thirty years ago, I felt runner's guilt if I did not run twice a day.  Once past my prime, the standard slipped to once a day, and in the last five or six years to six days a week as I have bowed to age and accepted that my body recovers better if I have a day off after a long run.  Each time I lowered the standard, I felt guilty for sometime, but eventually accepted the wisdom of the change.

Sydney Harbour Bridge this morning.

Yesterday, after Sunday's 47 km trail run, I walked 5km as planned.  Today, I should have run 10km.  I had an appointment in Sydney in mid-morning, which meant the run would have to be at 5:30am, but that's not a big deal.  I ran at that hour for decades of my working life.  As I went to bed, I got my gear out ready for the early start, but when setting the alarm decided that it would be better to get a good night's sleep and give the run a miss.

My rationale was that I still felt short of sleep after several days of early starts, and that my body still had some sore spots after Sunday's long run.  However, I know in my heart of hearts that you can always come up with a justification for any decision.  I suspect that I could have gone without the extra sleep, done the run, and be just fine.  Maybe even marginally fitter and lighter by the end of the week.  On the other hand, I also know that whether or not I ran 10km today will, in itself, make pretty much zero difference to how fit I am in a month or year's time.

Looking east up Sydney Harbour from the Opera House
this morning.

It's easy to say that runner's guilt is simply the manifestation of an obsession or addiction, and should be ignored.  However, this overlooks the positive aspects.  Firstly, the more days you run, the fitter you will get, so if you want to be a good runner then don't miss more days than necessary.  Secondly, the fewer days you do miss, the less likely you are to miss days in the future.  Guilt at spoiling a good record or failing to adhere to a plan will get you out running on days that you would otherwise miss.

It's not that you have to run every day, but you need a plan and then the dedication to stick to it.  My current plan is to run six days a week and to walk on the seventh, generally the day after a long run.  Today, I failed to adhere to the plan and just walked six kilometres around Sydney for exercise.  It was a beautiful sunny day, but I did feel a bit guilty.

How much is too much?

Waiting for me the first time on the Bush Bash.

Any rational analysis would suggest running 47km on trails yesterday would be tough for me.  I've only been back running for two months after two months off while I was treated for some heart and lung problems, and on Saturday, I ran our club's 10km race in 44:01, 3:30 faster than on the same course a month ago.  I hoped, rather than expected, that the 10km hadn't taken too much out of me and that by walking the steeper hills I would cope with the 47km Brisbane Water Bush Bash.

One of the smaller hills on the Bush Bash.
A week or so ago, Terrigal Trotters was contacted by the producers of a television program, Search4Hurt, to ask whether we would take one of their rookie ultra trail runners on a 40-50km run to gauge his preparation for The North Face 100km in three weeks time.  I suggested the Bush Bash because it was easily accessible in a number of places to film progress, and enlisted some friends from the club to accompany him.  As a point of pride, I wanted to do the run as well, perhaps hoping that the rookie wouldn't be that fit and I could hang on.

Misty views over Brisbane Water.

The run started with a brief on-camera interview about Terrigal Trotters and then we were off on a drizzly, misty and overcast morning for the first bike path section.  Sadly, my quads were very heavy from Saturday's run and my early pace was slow.  The leaders, including the rookie, disappeared into the distance.  I caught them at the first fire-trail junction, 8km into the run, but only because they were waiting.  Thereafter, I managed to stay in touch with the group, partly because I was moving a little better, and partly because my colleagues occasionally waited a short while for me to catch up.

The course is a real mix of terrain.  There are scenic, but boring and hard-on-the-legs, flat bike path sections, and some short road sections, but most of the course follows fire-trails along the mountain crests surrounding Brisbane Water, including very steep ascents and descents.  The intermittent rain combined with low cloud and mist made for some great scenery and atmospheric forest.  There's nothing quite like the eucalypt forests in rain and some of the views, with forested ridges interleaved with low cloud, were breathtaking.

One of the steep descents on the
Bush Bash.

The company was good, but I gave up on trying to keep up with the bunch after 26km and drifted back to run on my own.  I suddenly felt very fatigued and slowed to a plod, wondering how I was going to manage another 20km.  Fortunately, the rookie, who had found $70 on one of the trails, bought us all a drink at the South Kincumber store (they waited for me again!), and the Coke revived me a little.  I told them not to wait for me any more, and they quickly disappeared on the steep climb up Kincumba Mountain.

One of the bike path sections on the
Bush Bash.

I expected to be on my own for the last 15km, but instead developed a symbiotic relationship with Kirrily, who had not run the course before.  I tried in vain to keep up with her, causing me to run more than I would have otherwise, and she had to keep stopping at junctions, unsure of the way, to wait for me to catch up.  This worked well until the final descent, with just 2km to go, when I started to lose my equilibrium and couldn't do more than walk most of the time, taking great care on the steep descents and stairways not to fall, and cursing the unreliability of my muscles.  There was a background concern in my mind that my problems were heart-related, but it was beating regularly, and my blood pressure seemed OK.  Kirrily was concerned, but I was still thinking clearly and was confident I could finish.  I told her to go on ahead.

Another steep descent on the
Bush Bash.

I finished safely in six hours, about an hour slower than my best, and even managed to jog the last few hundred metres.  The TV guys, who wanted to go home, asked for another short interview with the rookie and me.  I was a little worried I would fall over, and hoped I was making sense.  Towards the end, I noticed Kirrily gesturing towards my feet in the background and looked down to find my shoes seething with multiple leeches looking for a feed.  The cameraman got a last close-up of the predators before I adjourned to a wet park bench and began trying to pick them off.  It took some time, but I was lucky and none drew blood.

The run definitely tested my current fitness limits, but it was satisfying to finish with all body parts, except for my very painful right Achilles tendon, in working order.  It will take me a few days to get over it, and I tossed and turned in bed with aching feet and legs last night, but when I do I will be stronger for the effort.  For today, I just walked an easy 5km.