Downtime

Another quiet day on the exercise front.  I didn't even go for a walk after the morning track session at The Haven.  There are still occasional traces of pain in my right arch when I walk, but certainly not bad enough to prevent me running if I wanted too.  I just have to tell myself that these few days, and perhaps weeks, will pass quickly enough and I will be glad I didn't try and rush back too early.  That's the theory, anyway.



Three failed attempts to break the record for riding solo
and unsupported around Australia occupied injury time
(2007, 2008 and 2009).

When running plays as large a part in your life as it has in mine, the absence of running leaves a large void that is easily filled with self-pity and eating.  Back in my prime, when I was running 200+ kilometres a week, these voids were even larger and sometimes longer.  I soon learned that the best way of managing them was to fill the space with meaningful activity and see them as an opportunity.  If other activities I enjoyed were still possible, such as hiking, bike-riding or kayaking, then I would pursue those.  If I could give myself some kind of challenge, then even better.  When studying, it was a chance to complete assignments.  In a worst-case scenario, it might mean some long-delayed DIY work around the house or gardening.


I completed the 250km River Murray Red Cross
Canoe Marathon twice while unable to run (circa 1980).

This week, I have spent a lot of time on detailed planning for my next adventure (since retiring, I've tried to have at least one adventure each year).  Two options I'm considering involve hiking part, or all, of two famous long-distance trails.  One is the 3,000 kilometre Te Araroa Trail which runs the length of New Zealand and the other is the 4,200 kilometre Pacific Crest Trail which follows the crest of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade mountain ranges from Mexico to Canada in the western US .  Both are on my "bucket list".  However, before committing I want to have a good idea of the terrain, gear I will need, the distance between resupply options, likely weather, best timing, and so on.  I enjoy the research, and it gives me something positive to think about, and anticipate, at a time when frustrated by my inability to run.

The edge of the mental envelope

It was an early start as usual for the 6am Thursday track session at The Haven in Terrigal, on a crisp and cold morning.  There was a good turn-out and it was pleasing to see so many of the runners showing improvement.  Running is a very honest sport, and barring injury, improvement is directly proportional to the effort invested.



On my way to 2:31 and 2nd place in the 1976 VMC Marathon

We were chatting after the session and I voiced my opinion that improvement will continue to come if the runner keeps nudging the edge of the envelope, both physically and mentally.  It is easy for runners to settle into a routine where they are fit and healthy, but don't push themselves to realise their full potential (of course, this is absolutely fine if running is primarily for the purpose of maintaining good health).

Improved physical ability through harder training is, perhaps, easier to achieve than the mental self-belief needed to fully realise running potential.  The latter does come partially from confidence that you have done the training necessary to run your best times.  However, even then, your performances can be constrained by  the boundaries you set yourself, often unconsciously.  You can think that you are performing at your limit, but in reality, you are not.

My Hamilton Marathon
race number

This was certainly the case in my running career.  For most of the early 1970s I was training hard, running marathons in the 2:30 to 2:40 range, and believing that improvement would come in minor increments, if I was lucky.  Then, in June 1976, I ran a marginal Personal Best time of 2:31 in the Victorian Marathon Club (VMC) Championship for second place behind a visiting New Zealander.  My prize, as the first VMC member to finish, was a trip to run in the Hamilton Marathon in New Zealand in October 1976.  I was over the moon with this prize, my biggest reward to date.  I can still remember walking along the beach near where we were staying after the race feeling a great sense of exhilaration and anticipation. I dreamed of breaking 2:30 in Hamilton, which had a reputation as a fast course.



Barely legible 1976 Hamilton Marathon results

As it turned out, the Hamilton Marathon changed my life.  I ran 2:22, a personal best by nine minutes, to finish in sixth place in a fast field.  I think I just got sucked along and then solid training kicked in over the last half where I gained eight places.  I could not believe my time, and still have doubts that the course was accurate.  A few fellow Australians in the race also ran their personal best times that day, but so far as I know, I'm the only one who ever improved on their Hamilton 1976 time.  However, for me the breakthrough was more mental than physical.  I had probably been capable of running that time for a few years, but had never done it, nor believed I could do it.  Suddenly, I believed I was a 2:20 marathon runner instead of a 2:30 marathon runner and that belief carried me to faster times, and not only in the marathon.

Of course, I have subsequently wondered whether I should have been a 2:15 or 2:10 marathon runner, but there's evidence I lacked the basic speed necessary.  I never broke 4 minutes for the 1500m or 2 minutes for 800m, despite plenty of attempts.  Then again........

After the session I walked a little over 6km as my training for the day.  I could still feel pain in my right arch but am moving a little more freely.

Tempo runs

As I feared, this morning's easy 5km run, after two days of light running and two days off to rest my sore right arch, was inconclusive.  I didn't feel the minor burning pain after half a kilometre or so, as earlier in the week, but it didn't feel 100% either.  As I warmed up during the run, I moved more freely and felt better.  There remained some minor discomfort in the arch, although it's not as bad as earlier in the week.

Later in the day, I went for a 5km walk with the same result.  No real pain, but a sense of warmth, and maybe inflammation, in the arch.  It's hard to know what's best.  Maybe a slow build up in mileage would make most sense, but I also don't want to waste more training time if it has repaired enough to resume normal training.  Tomorrow is the annual Terrigal Trotters Handicap 10km Time Trial, which provides the chance for a fast run, something I need.

Hard runs at speed form an important, and often shirked, part of a training program.  I find it difficult to do these tempo, or speed endurance, runs solo (though many do).  I have always found it easiest, and most effective, to run fast with a group.  The competitive juices flow and there's peer group pressure to hang in there when the going gets tough.  In the various clubs I have belonged to over the years, in Australia and the UK, there has usually been a weekday evening tempo run of 15 to 20 kilometres.  We all head out at a modest sociable clip, but finish at virtual race pace.  For a few years, my club's (Kew Camberwell) Tuesday 15 kilometre evening run from Olympic Park in Melbourne was a classic.  Below is an edited copy of an article I wrote for the Club's May 1980 Newsletter about the run.

__________________________________________________________

TUESDAY NIGHT TRAINING

The clicking of the turnstiles is answered by the clicking of the wristwatches as the runners file out of "the Park".  The first "hurdle" is encountered almost immediately.  The runners dash twixt rush hour commuter cars across Batman Avenue.  Ken baulks and misses a gap, losing 50 metres immediately (he "hates this ******* course!").  The main pack moves on towards Anderson Street hill with Ken almost catching us before he misses the lights at Alexandra Avenue and loses another 50 metres (he "hates this ******* course!").  The pace picks up as we ascend the hill with Andy making the running and occasionally expectorating on the pack to make sure they kept their distance.  This occasional shower for the following runners usually elicits some good-natured comment from Pratty such as "Do you want a punch in the face, Andy?".  Undeterred, Andy presses on.  Ken catches the bunch.  At the top of the hill, those who are already finding the pace a bit hot announce that they "were only going to do track training tonight, anyway" and continue around The Tan back to the Park where they do something easier like 20 X 300 metres in 45 seconds with 100 metre recoveries.




Some members of the Kew Camberwell distance squad
 at Olympic Park, Melbourne, in 1977.
(l. to r. JB, me, Kev, Dicky, Rod, Ray and Ken)

The pack heads off towards Fawkner Park at an ever-increasing rate with Greg now sitting on Andy's shoulder and Stan covering them both. JB and Pratty, at the back of the pack, chat nostalgically about the good old days when training pace never exceeded six-minute miles.  Ken gets caught again by the traffic at Toorak Road (he "hates this ******* course!").  We skirt the edge of Fawkner Park with everybody making sure everybody else runs around the correct trees.  Greg is really starting to push the pace a bit now. Andy spits on Pratty again - more good-natured banter.  Everybody is psyching themselves up for the next big obstacle: St Kilda Road - four lanes of traffic trams and traffic lights.  You can see Ken sweating in anticipation.  With much whooping and hollering, we dash across.  Brakes squeal, tram drivers curse and we all make it - except for Ken (he "hates this ******* course!") who loses 50 metres.  We cross Queens Road in similar fashion and encounter a new obstacle: Albert Park Golf Course in the pitch darkness.  Those who don't run into trees, fall into bunkers, trip over raised greens or drown in ponds, build up a good lead by the time we reach the Lake.

The Lake is a dangerous place.  Dangerous because Ken makes way for no man, as a number of cyclists on the bike path will testify.  Heading north along the western side through the hockey fields the pace is really on.  Greg and Andy are striding out.  Conversation has dropped to a minimum and the only sounds are heavy breathing (particularly Cashy) and the monotonous click of Stan's ankle.  A few fences are encountered and JB's steeple-chasing skills get him a 20 metre break, though this is quickly made up as he swerves to avoid being clobbered by the backswing of an overzealous hockey player.  We round South Melbourne Cricket Ground and run along Albert Road towards the Shrine.  Moves are coming from everywhere.  Stan makes a break up the service road with Dave in hot pursuit.  Ray, under cover of darkness and trees, moves up on the inside.  Fortunately, Ray's break is halted by a red light (traffic variety) at Queens Road and we all catch up.

A good position is vital now, as we have to negotiate several major roads before the long surge northwards along St Kilda Road.  Ken gets caught again and loses another 50 metres (he "hates this ******* course!").  The race is really on now with Dave, Pratty and Ray pushing to get to the front, and JB and Andy attempting to block.  Andy spits on Pratty again, and receives a good-natured tap on the shoulder that nearly knocks him over.  There are more pedestrians around now and quick thinking is called for.  Cashy nearly runs Dave into a traffic light and is then, in turn, steered into a post by Dave as we round Princes Gate Station.  It's on for young and old.

Dave puts on the pressure along Flinders Street, but is nearly fouled out by a rather stout Italian lady who steps sideways at a critical moment.  Ken is getting scared - a missed traffic light now and he knows he won't recover.  Pratty's crossed the road and piles it on.  Cashy, JB, Ray, Stan and Andy settle back to a leisurely 5:30 pace whilst Dave and Ken chase Pratty.  Ken misses the light (he "hates this ******* course!").  Has Pratty made his move too soon?  Self doubt takes over as Dave comes up to his shoulder and they race up the Lansdowne Street hill.  At the top, Dave eases off, but Pratty doesn't and surges past - the race isn't over yet.....

Inspiration

Another day of no running, though I couldn't resist jogging a few metres on the grass while the Thursday morning track group went through their paces at The Haven.  I couldn't feel any pain, but it was only a few metres.



Some of the Thursday morning track group go through their
paces in the pre-dawn gloom.

I'm not an essential part of either of the track sessions I supervise each week, but I enjoy encouraging the athletes' efforts and am inspired by their commitment and effort.  I get great satisfaction from playing a small role in their development and watching "ordinary people do extraordinary things".  Within Terrigal Trotters and elsewhere, I have seen new runners discover that with regular and sensible training they can accomplish feats they never dreamed possible.  Their self esteem gets a boost, as does their quality of life.  It's easy to see some wish they had discovered the sport earlier while others recapture the joy of running they had experienced earlier in their life, but which had been lost to the pressures of family and work commitments.

Of course, no runner escapes injury if their career lasts long enough, and there's always someone struggling with a new injury or coming back from an injury.  I try to offer relevant advice and some encouragement, but everybody is different and nobody, including doctors, is infallible in diagnosing injuries or prescribing the correct treatment.   Runners have to learn to deal with uncertainty, and often disappointment.

If my planned 5km jog tomorrow morning is pain-free, or near enough, then I hope to return to my marathon training program.  Of course, it may not be that straight forward, but I am an optimist.

Risk analysis

After the lower back stiffness and nerve tingling of yesterday, I was quite anxious about how I would go at this week's Saturday morning Trotters' Avoca Amphitheatre run.  This was to be the first serious tempo run in my training program for the Melbourne Marathon and I hadn't tried to run fast, apart from Thursday evening's track session, for two months.  I was very conscious that running fast with the niggles left over from Thursday significantly increased the risk of injury.  However, I'm also very conscious that to get myself to the level of fitness necessary, I need to try and follow my program.  This will involve taking some calculated risks and not taking it easy every time I have a niggle.  The terrible thing about running injuries, especially soft tissue (muscles, ligaments and tendons), is that they can happen very quickly, often in a couple of strides, and there's no going back.  A soft tissue injury at this point will set me back a minimum of six weeks - three weeks for the injury to repair and three weeks to get back to where I am now.  A sobering thought.

Looking back down one of the gentler hills on Trotters'
Avoca Amphitheatre run

My approach is to take commonsense precautions, such as making sure I'm warmed up and starting slowly.  Then, if an injury occurs, I can put it down to bad luck and the risks that must be taken to reach new fitness levels.  I have always found that in running, as in life, you make the best decision you can given the available information and accept the consequences, be they good or bad.  There's no point in looking back and saying "what if?".  If the worst happens, accept it and move on.  If it resulted from a deficiency in your analysis, then learn the lessons and don't repeat the error next time.

Running is definitely a sport where you learn more and more about your own body as you go along.  The hard part is harnessing that knowledge to make smart decisions and avoid emotional choices.  I know that I have always been a lot better at suggesting rational running and injury management plans to others than following them myself.  I was notorious in my running club, back in the eighties, for suggesting to attendees at marathon running clinics we organised, that "consistency and moderation" were the key to success.  My fellow clubmates knew that my own training was anything but "moderate" - 240, and more, kilometres a week.

Anyway, for this morning's run, I found time for a one kilometre warm-up beforehand and then started slowly at the back of the pack as we climbed the challenging Kurrawyba laneway away from Terrigal.  After a couple of kilometres, I felt sufficiently warmed up to begin chasing the leaders, who by now were long gone.  I was moving well and feeling fit as I gradually worked my way through the field, though I lost my momentum a bit on the infamous climb up Coast Road and never did catch Ian or Kev.

It was a satisfying run, and where I want to be at this stage in my preparation.  I did have some sharp pain in my right instep at times and am hoping that it is just a minor issue.  Maybe the way I tied up my shoelaces today?  I will find out tomorrow when I tackle my scheduled long road run.

Other sports

Golf at 7am again this morning and I headed out for my easy 5km at 5:15am on the longest night of the year. It was cold and my right Achilles was sore, but didn't feel too bad considering how hard last night's track session had been for me.  One of the reasons that I squeeze my run in before golf is that I think it loosens me up a little.  There have been occasions in the past when I have run after golf and suffered from side or back injuries.  I can't specifically tie those injuries to golf, but I do think that participating in other sports can be risky if you are a serious runner.



Melbourne Herald, 1 February 1973

I gave up other sports I enjoyed playing, such as cricket, tennis and volleyball, during my twenties because either running took up too much time, or because of the risk of injury.  I also frequently represented my Club in hurdles and jump events, and even competed in the State Decathlon Championships when 22, coming 10th out of 18 entrants.  My pole-vaulting was execrable and inspired the accompanying article in the Melbourne evening newspaper.

In my late twenties, when I got really serious about my marathon running, I realised that injuries in other sports and events risked derailing my ambitions and I began to focus strictly on running.  I confess that I now question the value of time devoted to other types of training, such as cycling or cross-training, and particularly think they should not be substituted for running training for the serious runner.  But, everybody is different.  I always raced best when running a very high mileage (200km -240km per week) which didn't leave much time for other training when working full-time, but I know of others who have successfully used a different approach.

During my preparation for the Melbourne Marathon over the next four months, I have decided to stay away from my bike and kayak, just in case they are incompatible with the running.  I decided, however, that playing golf had lower risk, but after this morning am not so sure.  Not only did I play my worst round for a long time, but I could feel tingling nerves in my lower back and some stiffness from yesterday's track session.  The two are probably connected.  Hopefully, I will feel more flexible for tomorrow morning's run with Terrigal Trotters during which I hope to run hard.

Where has my speed gone

Thursday, 20 June 2013

I was quite anxious about today's running because I had scheduled my first track training session for a couple of years.  I believe the biggest obstacle to running a sub-3 in October will be my speed, not my stamina, assuming I get there uninjured.  As I have aged, my stride length has shortened and I have lost flexibility and anaerobic capacity.  My plan to overcome this deficiency is to run more shorter races and include a track session a week.  Assuming I can do both of these, my ability to sustain the necessary speed will improve.  The reason for my anxiety today was that, in the last ten years, whenever I have decided to include a track session in my weekly program, I have only lasted a couple of weeks before succumbing to injury.  I'm hoping that by running repetitions of no less than 800 metres, I won't reach the speeds that risk injury, but it will be a fine line.



I used to be faster on the track.  On my way to a PB 14:26
for 5000m at Olympic Park, Melbourne, in March 1977

The day started with supervision of the regular Thursday morning track session at The Haven in Terrigal, and I followed that with an easy 6km run during which I felt quite comfortable, though my right knee and Achilles were a bit painful.

Around 4:30pm, I started my second training session for the day with a 3km warm-up around Adcock Park in Gosford, followed by a few drills on the mediocre grass track.  After marking out my 800m start in lane 3 on the damp track, I began my session of five 800m repeats with a three minute recovery between each.  Ideally, I want to build up to ten repeats averaging between 2:50 and 3:00.  I knew I would find today hard, and I was right.  The kebab I had for lunch at the mall came back to haunt me, just to make matters worse.  The first 800 was in 3:13 and I felt awkward all the way.  My right calf and hamstring felt tight and I could hear my bad knee clicking with every step.  The remaining 800's were all between 3:05 and 3:10.  I tried not to think about how this was slower than 6 minute mile pace (3:45 mins/km), the speed at which I used to run my regular Wednesday night 20 miler (32km) in my heyday.

I finished the session with another easy 3km and decided that the rough damp grass track was not a good surface for an old guy like me to train on.  The soft surface provided little support, leading to more strain on calf muscles and knees.  For next week's session, I will try to find a flat section of quiet road and use Google Maps to identify an exact 800m.  I think I will feel more comfortable on the road.

Recovery with caution

Thursday, 13 June 2013

I didn’t feel too loose when I got up, but by 7am when the track session I supervise ended, I felt more positive about my scheduled 15km run on a clear sunny morning.



Terrigal Haven (foreground)

As usual, my run started up two quite steep hills and I took it slowly, still a little fearful that one of my tight calf muscles might tear.  However, by the time I reached the ridge along the Scenic Highway overlooking Terrigal and the ocean, I was well-warmed up and settled into a comfortable pace.  My course took in three more significant hills and, on each, I still felt some post-marathon fatigue lurking below the surface but otherwise felt strong and free-moving.

For the last flattish section into and through Terrigal I even stretched out a little and finished what turned out to be a 16km run at an average pace of 5 mins/km, which was quite good at this point.  A morning bonus was seeing a whale spouting offshore during my post-run walk around Terrigal Haven.

Tomorrow will just be an easy pre-golf 5km, but I’m conscious that for Saturday’s run at Trotters, which incorporates some tough hills, I might be wise not to get carried away and competitive, at least early on.

Recovery is important

Thursday, 6 June 2013

I wasn’t sure how I was going to be moving this morning after yesterday’s long run.  However, walking around while the Thursday morning track group went through their paces, loosened me up and I didn’t feel too bad.  It was a recovery day, so I had no reason to force the pace or run to a time.



I used to love my warm-down walks to the end of our
cul-de-sac and back in Darien, Connecticut

As usual, my run from Terrigal Haven, where the track session is held, started with a couple of very tough hills and I wasn’t running much faster than walking pace.  But, by the time I reached the ridge overlooking Terrigal, I was feeling a bit better and confident that I could manage the planned 11km without problems.  There was another big hill after 5km, but I just plodded up it and then enjoyed the flatter section at the top.

It was a slow 11km, but I felt as good as I could hope for after the long run yesterday and am looking forward to an even shorter run tomorrow to help me freshen up.

I often think that the best part of any training run is the slow warm-down walk I always try to take straight afterwards, wherever I am.  I can vividly remember most of the warm-down walks I have done over the years from regular running locations.  Apart from the relief at finishing a possibly hard run, your senses are alive after the exercise, you have a sense of well-being, and you can quietly contemplate what the day ahead holds.

At The Haven, it’s possible to walk round the low headland with spectacular views out to sea and along the coast and I always feel very lucky to, firstly, have such a lovely part of the world in which to run, and secondly, not to be one of the commuters I could see rushing off to work in their cars.

Loosening up

Thursday, 30 May 2013

My right Achilles was sore from the moment I got up.  I hobbled around trying not to stress it while I got ready for the regular 6:00am Thursday track training session that I supervise at Terrigal Haven.  I use the word “supervise” somewhat loosely, because the sessions, which are attended by about ten of my Terrigal Trotters’ friends, would happen whether I was there or not.  I do map out a program tailored towards peaking for several major marathons, and I think everybody is happy to have someone else tell them what to do.  The sessions last about an hour and I don’t do much more than spell out what the session entails and offer encouragement and sometimes advice on injuries or to novices.  I enjoy the camaraderie and try to keep walking around to loosen up for my own run, which will follow.



Terrigal Haven, where the Thursday morning track
sessions occur.

The runners prefer to do the sessions on the grass rugby oval, even though it is very dark to start in winter, and some wear headlamps.  This morning, in addition to the marker cones I traditionally use to define the lap, I brought along some cheap LED lights ($1 per unit) I had purchased on eBay and put them out with the cones.  It worked well, I think.

The walking around while the runners ran their laps loosened my Achilles and when the session was over, I was ready to run.  After the runners left, I stripped off at my car and set off to run a 22.5km circuit as my day’s training.  My quads felt very tight and heavy right from the start and I resigned myself to a laborious two hours of running.  I tried not to push at all and, early on, worried about a few niggles, especially in my left hip that had been the site of some problems in the last two years.  My chronic right knee injury hurt, but I expected that and knew it would cope.  Thankfully, the shooting pain I briefly experienced climbing the stairs soon after rising this morning did not return.  So many things that can go wrong with a runner’s body, that I often wonder how (and why) we keep going.

I plodded along, negotiating the substantial hills en route, and just tried to ignore the muscle fatigue and stiffness.  It’s all about risk management, really.  It did feel risky setting out on a two-hour run when my muscles were so fatigued.  However, it is also true that just five days ago I had hiked nearly 50km in a day carrying a 20kg pack at the end of many days’ of hiking.  It seems reasonable, that so long as I run slowly, I should be able to manage 22km.

I finished in 2:06, which though slow, was faster than I had expected or felt like I was running.  I savoured my warm-down 15 minute walk around the perimeter of The Haven in the warming sunshine.  Injuries often show up one or two days later, so I can’t be sure whether my decision to run was wise.  For the moment, I’m still on track.