.....some days are stone

After 8km, a few hills were a little harder than I had anticipated

Although I knew it would be hard work, I planned to try and run 36.5km this morning on the Round the Bay course here on the Central Coast.  I'm unhappy with my fitness and long runs have always been a relatively quick route back to form for me.  I knew I wasn't fit enough to be worrying at all about the time I would run.  Instead, I just wanted to complete the first two-thirds of the roughly triangular course without getting too tired, and then make my way to the finish as best I could.  Perhaps unwisely, after another late night, I chose not to get up early and set out around 8:45am on another warm sunny day along roads busy with morning peak hour traffic.

The early kilometres passed comfortably enough, with neither my right Achilles tendon nor my right arch injuries causing me excessive pain.  After 8km, a few hills were a little harder than I had anticipated, confirming that this was going to be a hard run.  By 15km, under a relentless sun, I couldn't stop thinking about how good it was going to be to stop, and kept telling myself to run efficiently.

By 15km, under a relentless sun, I couldn't stop thinking
about how good it was going to be to stop

By 24km I was really struggling to maintain a reasonable pace and the minor climb into East Gosford around 27km pretty much finished off any pretence of good running form.  I was just shambling along, uncertain of how I would manage another 10km.  Ultimately, I decided to run to the intersection at 29.5km and then walk the remaining 7km back to my car.  I regretted not carrying a $20 note with me for emergency use, but was mollified by the thought that walking the last 7km might be an appropriate of punishment for not running the whole way.  I have walked when running this course before, but only once that I can remember, and on that occasion I was unfit, over-weight and it was warm and humid.  Although it was warm, I would have expected to do better today.  Only a week ago I had managed the 32km Orchard Run in reasonable form, so maybe I am still labouring with some minor ailment.

As I walked along the sun-soaked footpath I was very tempted to lie down and close my eyes for just a couple of minutes in the shade of a tree in one of the small grassy parks I passed, or maybe on the bench in one of the bus shelters.  This was a tell-tale sign of exhaustion, just as the longing for a Mars Bar is a sign that I have exhausted my glycogen stores and am burning fats.

With about 4.5km to go, I passed a car parked by the footpath and heard my name called.  It was a fellow Terrigal Trotter, Alison, who had driven passed me and returned, wondering whether I needed help.  I gratefully accepted her offer of a lift to where my car was parked, and my ordeal was over.

Although I had managed to run about 30km, it was demoralising not to finish the run as planned.  At the time I injured my arch, just over two months ago, I had run the same course reasonably easily in a satisfactory time.  It's hard to accept that, despite having resumed training more than a month ago, I'm still not back to where I was.  I do hope that it's just the last vestiges of an ailment slowing me down and that normal service will shortly be resumed.  However, as Alison said, at least we are running.  She is running after missing more than a year with injury.

Hunting joggers

Melbourne's Tan Track

The reasonably fast downhill trail sections in yesterday's Terrigal Trotters run, aggravated my right arch injury a little, and a stint of dancing at last night's Trotters 30th Anniversary celebration didn't help either. So, I set off for a slow 8km this morning with some trepidation.  My right Achilles tendon had also suffered yesterday and remained sore.

However, despite the need to favour my right leg for the first few kilometres until the injuries warmed up, I did feel a bit fresher and stronger than has been the case for the past few days.  The 8km Copa Circle route that I use has plenty of hills and I was pleased to find that, despite quite warm conditions, I coped quite easily.  It gives me a little confidence that I'm over the chest bug that has troubled me the last week, and also to try a longer run tomorrow.

About a third of the way around today's run, I spied a tall lean jogger a hundred metres ahead, running down the road with a small dog on a lead.  It was a lovely sunny and warm morning and I took him for one of the weekend visitors to Copa out for a Sunday morning run.  He wasn't going fast, and despite my own modest pace, I gradually hauled him in.  I confess that I'm never very happy being caught from behind when out for a run, particularly when it comes as a surprise, so when I'm doing the passing, I always try to make eye contact and say hello.

This morning, however, the jogger showed no inclination to make eye contact  or acknowledge me and immediately increased his pace, somewhat to the distress of the small dog.  I consciously avoided throwing down the gauntlet by increasing my pace, because I would have felt ridiculous, so we ran in tandem, each on his own side of the road, for what seems like a long time, but was probably only 500m or so.  We parted company when the road began to climb a short sharp hill and he gave up, as I suspected he would, after a 100 metres of straining to keep level.

We used to kid a fellow Kew Camberwell club-mate in Melbourne about one of his favourite lunchtime activities, "hunting" joggers.  Ray was a very good runner, with a best time of around 30 minutes for 10km, and worked as a public servant in the Melbourne central business district.  Like many city workers, Ray used to go for a lunchtime run around the Tan track, where he would delight in catching slower lunchtime runners from behind.  The runners, who were always men, and presumably suffering from excess testosterone, often sought to keep pace with Ray as he eased past.  Once Ray had the jogger on the hook, he just kept slowly increasing the pace until, with a gasp, they dropped off.  Very sadistic.

Can't take a trick

Better days......leading in the 1983
Stawell Marathon (1st, 2:29)

Another bad day at the office.  After last evening's abortive Six at Six race, I slept badly, waking up sweating several times, and rose early this morning feeling tired and unmotivated.

I journeyed to Terrigal Haven for the regular 6:00am track session and afterwards set out for my own planned run of 16km.  It didn't go well.  The two steep hills in the first kilometre are always a hard way to start a run, but usually, once I reach the ridge above Terrigal I start to feel warmed up and begin to move better.  That didn't happen this morning, when every step seemed a struggle and every breath an effort.  After a couple of kilometres, I began to question the wisdom of completing 16km, especially on the planned hilly course, and after 3km I made the decision to return to The Haven via the shortest route.

The last 3km, run at a very slow pace, were tough.  I was short of breath, heavy-legged and sweating profusely, especially round the head, and very glad I had chosen the short route back.  It took me about 37 minutes to run the 6km and I'm now convinced I have some kind of bug.  My chest feels weak and I lack energy.  Hopefully, it's just a short-term thing.  I can't really be bothered going to see the doctor.  My right Achilles tendon was also quite sore for the whole run, and I just don't feel like I can take a trick at the moment.  I would like to have just one day where I feel like I am running well and it seems like months (and is months) since that happened.

From experience, I know that I must keep running through this period, perhaps taking it a bit easier until I feel healthier, but generally sticking to my training regime, and eventually things will stabilise and running will become more enjoyable.  I also need to remind myself how unhappy I was when I couldn't run at all, and count my blessings.  I'm a believer in the body sorting itself out if you give it time and am hopeful that, in another month, the current period will be just a bad memory.

Realising potential

Scene from the Hunter Valley marathon

I took a chance this morning, and jogged 5km through the streets of Copa for my exercise.  My arch was a bit sore the whole way, maybe 3 out of 10 on my pain scale, just short of needing to scale back training.  The new insoles are definitely helping, but are not eliminating the pain.  Nevertheless, I'm a bit more optimistic about my running and will try another 5km tomorrow.

One consequence of wearing the new insoles is that they have an impact on my running gait, and I need to be careful not to get any other injuries.  Last night, I was jolted awake by a severe cramp in the arch of my left (good) foot and my quads have been aching this afternoon after what was a very short run this morning.

After the Trotters Saturday morning run yesterday, I was talking to one of my club-mates who was quite disappointed with his debut marathon time the previous weekend at Hunter Valley and his subsequent soreness.  I knew he had an interrupted preparation and also picked a tough course for his debut, and told him he should not be too hard on himself.  In my view, the interrupted preparation not only made the race harder for him, but meant that it took more out of his under-prepared body, increasing his post-run soreness.

A gap has opened between the best and the rest in marathons

I'm sure he will do much better at his next attempt, and voiced my opinion that to really get the best out of yourself in a marathon, you need to pick a race three or four months into the future and then train for it, ignoring the temptation to do well in every race that appeals to you in the interim.

There are many marathon and ultra trail and road races to choose from these days.  They are well organised and offer interesting and challenging courses.  Race anticipation and camaraderie is heightened by social media, making them immensely appealing and hard to resist.  Consequently, many runners like to compete in as many as possible.  I have tended to do the same myself in the twilight of my career, so would not criticise those who do the same.  However, I think this approach represents a cultural change in the running population, and means that many of today's runners, both elite and journeymen, never find out how good they could really be.

One result has been that, although more people are running long-distance events these days, the average performance standards have dropped.  At the "pointy end", the best athletes are running faster than ever and continue to improve, but a gap has opened between the elite and the rest of the field.  I think this may be because the runners with potential to fill this gap are more interested in the various running experiences offered, than in seeing just how good they could be, and applying the focus and training necessary to realise their full potential.  This is not a criticism, but I feel a certain sadness that many runners will never find out just how good they could be.

Side benefits

My running career started a long time ago.  First win, in
a low-key school's race in London's Richmond Park (1967)

Yet more walking for exercise this morning.  Just 5km around the streets of Copa and still some discomfort in my right arch, so not particularly encouraging.  I risked a 50m jog at the end of the walk and there was no real problem, so I'm still planning to resume jogging later this week.

While attending to some desktop chores today, I watched a DVD called It's Not That Hard, produced by an ultra-running friend, Ana.  It featured interviews with many Australian Ultra-runners I know, each of them explaining what they get out of trail ultra-running.  Many of the comments struck a chord with me.  Of course, long-distance running has the obvious benefit of improving health and well-being (except when you get injured!), but it also provides great lessons for life.

Knowing that you can accomplish physical feats and be significantly healthier than your demographic, through the application of planning, preparation and discipline, gives you a belief in your abilities that extends beyond running.  It has given me the confidence to take on formidable challenges in my private life and career knowing that if I apply the same principles I will most likely be successful.

The earliest race certificate in my
running file.

Another lesson has been that the more you train, the better you will get.  With respect to running, your body adapts to make you a more efficient and accomplished runner.  Your muscles build and fine-tune, your posture changes, your stride length increases and your cardio-vascular system becomes more efficient.  I know that my heart size and lung capacity are in the top few percent for my demographic, whilst my pulse rate and blood pressure match those of athletes many years younger.  Adaption, through repetition has even helped me overcome injuries.  Everybody has physical idiosyncrasies, some inherited and some through injury.  I believe that my body has dealt with past serious chronic injuries through subconsciously adapting my running style to reduce the impact on those injuries.  For example, my feet have splayed over time to deal with chronic Achilles injuries by marginally shortening the length the tendons need to stretch while running.  Training, repetition and adaptation have also benefited me outside of running - in work tasks, household chores, and such things as public speaking.

Most of the time, the planning and preparation is as rewarding as is success in the goal event.  All runners I know, savour much of the training that they do and the environments in which they run.  I have many more happy memories of training runs than I do of races.  Nothing beats the feeling of running well along a bush trail or strongly up a hill or with a group of friends.  It's important to enjoy these good times and not to be solely focussed on a target event, which may not always be as rewarding as hoped.  This "smell the roses" approach has increasingly influenced my life outside of running.  Retiring from work as soon as I thought I could afford it was, perhaps, the biggest instance.  (Not that I didn't enjoy my work, but there were many things on my bucket list.)  We all know people who have been suddenly struck down with serious illness, or worse.  There's a balance, of course, but I have definitely become an advocate of "live for today" as opposed to saving yourself for a luxurious retirement.

Maybe most importantly of all, dealing with the derailment of best laid race plans in my running career, has helped me build the skills and experience to deal with the vicissitudes of life.  Over a running career you learn that such calamities loom large at the time, but just become bad memories in retrospect.  Everything is cyclical in running, and in life.  There are cycles within cycles, and bad days are followed by good days, bad months by good months, and so on.  Perhaps the biggest lesson from running for me has been to keep things in perspective and have faith that you will get over those bad times and have more good times.

In search of information

Despite not planning to run, or even walk very much, I rose very early and joined the throng building on the Terrigal waterfront at 5:30am for the 6:00am Trotters' run.  It was cold and I was wearing jeans and multiple layers, making it obvious to everybody that I wasn't going to be running.  As usual, there was lots of animated conversation, and people were sympathetic to my plight.  At 6am, the place cleared and I plugged in my earphones and wandered off for a gentle stroll along the waterfront and through the shopping precinct listening to the latest audio version of The Economist (published Friday nights), while the sun gradually coloured the eastern sky and silhouetted the fishing boats heading out to sea.  I really really wanted to go for a run, but there's just enough sensitivity in my right arch to convince me that there still may be a problem and running could potentially set me back.



Comparison of planned and actual marathon training outcomes

Later in the day, as I despaired of my chances of running strongly again within a few months, I devoted some time to analysing how much training I had done compared to plan, and how my marathon preparations had gone in a previous era.

Most of my working life was spent managing and analysing data and information, and I have a passion for numbers.  So, it's not surprising that I have diaries for fifteen of my prime running years in which I planned and analysed my training from many aspects.  One of my base measures was the seven-day running mileage total and I took a look at the twenty weeks leading up to my best marathon time in 1979, and compared it to the twenty weeks leading up to this year's Melbourne Marathon.

Not surprisingly, when in full training, I was averaging more than twice the mileage.  However, perhaps the most valuable information was that in the lead-up to that race in 1979 I lost significant training time to a quadriceps tear and a serious bout of tonsillitis, and had a few very poor race performances along the way.

The lesson for me is not to lose faith in my ability as I encounter obstacles, lose training time, or perform badly.  I have often said that potential is defined by your best performances (and training), not your worst.

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.....

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.

Appropriate dress

Tuesday, 19 June 2013

I had a commitment at 8:30am this morning, so had to choose whether to get up early enough to run my 10km and get to the appointment (30 minutes drive away) on time, or leave it until afterwards.  I set the alarm early, knowing from long experience that I would regret leaving the run until after the appointment, and spent an hour warming up and doing some chores before setting out at 6:30am.

For the past few years, I have usually scheduled a 5km walk for the day after a long run, and that might have been the safer option today, but I have accepted that I need to run a higher mileage and accept some injury risks, if I am to raise my fitness to the level necessary to run a sub-3 marathon in October.

I expected to feel very sluggish and sore as I set out, but actually felt quite good, although my right Achilles tendon was stiff and painful.  I took care not to force it and hoped it would loosen up as I ran.  This was a recovery run, so I made it as easy as possible by crossing the sand bar to McMasters Beach and running out and back along the road.



Not a pretty sight!  Running in Maine, USA, in 2009

It was relatively cold, for the Central Coast, and my fingers would have welcomed some gloves.  However, you get a bit weather-soft living on the Central Coast where it never gets too cold or too hot.  Having lived in other parts of the world subject to extreme running conditions, I always feel a bit soft if I wear more than the regulation shorts and T-shirt for my training runs here.  While living and working in the U.S., I occasionally encountered air temperatures of -25°C with wind chills of -45°C, while at the other end of the scale, I have dealt with the humidity and heat of Singapore and Hong Kong on extended work assignments.  Only once in my memory, have I ever put off a training run because of weather and that was when I arrived in Chicago late one night in winter, on my first business trip there.  As I went through my pre-run exercises listening to the local radio at 5am the next morning, the announcer warned that it was cold enough outside for exposed flesh to freeze in two minutes!  I only had shorts and a long-sleeve top, so abandoned my run.  However, later that day I visited a cheap clothing store and bought track pants, another long sleeve top, and a balaclava, and didn't miss another run on that trip, though did have some weather-related adventures on subsequent trips.

I finished today's run comfortably and hope that my Achilles tendon is a little less painful tomorrow.

Getting fitter

Monday, 17 June 2013

An early appointment meant that I had to get up early if I wanted to squeeze my planned long run in beforehand.  Given how jaded I felt on yesterday’s run, I gave myself over an hour of “wake up” time before I hit the road at 5:45am for my 33km.

1976 Australian Olympic Trial Marathon (2nd from left)
[14th, 2:37:33]

To my surprise, I didn’t feel too bad in the first kilometre.  Of course, I’m speaking relatively and to any observer I would have looked like an old bloke going for a very slow and shambling jog, but I could feel that the leg muscles were in better shape than the last few days.

It wasn’t going to be light for the first 45 minutes, but I had shied away from carrying a light or wearing reflective gear because I was going to be out for so long.  So, for the early kilometres, including a long section of road made narrow by roadworks, I ran very defensively making sure I was well off the road surface for any oncoming vehicle and never assuming the driver had seen me.  I’m sure a few drivers would have cursed me as I suddenly loomed in their headlights, but it was safe.

After that initial period, it turned into a beautiful morning for running as the sun rose and I cruised at better than jogging pace along roads busy with commuter traffic.

Any route from Copa involves quite a lot of hills and this 33km course was no exception.  I expected the climbs to gradually wear me down but it was only really the last five kilometres that became hard.

I finished in 2:55, an acceptable if not spectacular time for this course.  That’s only 5:20 mins/km pace and just a week ago, when I was definitely less fit, I could manage a 3:24 marathon at 4:50 mins/km pace.  I still find it amazing how a competitive event lifts my physical and mental performance.  However, have come to accept and rely on it, and don’t let apparently slow training runs bother me anymore.  It’s always nice to run well in training, but so long I do the training, regardless of how I feel, I can have confidence that my body will respond as I want when race day arrives.

Pre-dawn "Edventures"

Saturday, 15 June 2013

I got up at 4:30am with a slight headache and not feeling in the least like running a hard 15km at 6am.  I went through my usual pre-Trotters Saturday morning routine, including preparing the post-run drinks (it’s my turn this month), and by the time we set off at 6am, was feeling a little better, though not perfect.



Enzo's Edventure Route.  Terrigal Trotters publishes maps
of all its 33 Saturday morning runs on the Club's website.

As usual, I had reviewed the run scheduled for this morning, Enzo’s Edventure, last night to make sure I knew the route.  This is one of the more infrequently run courses and is quite complicated, linking up lots of road sections with short legs through parks, bush and suburban laneways.  Even though I had done it before, I still needed some effort to memorise the trickier sections and knew that there would be Trotters getting lost all over the place (but they would take it in good humour).  I also realised that some of the more obscure park and bush legs would be run in pre-dawn darkness, and for the first time, I packed a headlamp for the Trotters run.  The Committee, of which I am a member, has been emphasising safety and the use of lights when running in darkness, so I feel some responsibility to set a good example.

As it turned out, in the early stages of the run the headlamp proved very useful and nearby runners were grateful for the light it shed as we negotiated some of the challenging off-road sections.  I had already decided not to try to stay with the front-runners, even though I felt able to chase them down up the early steep hills.  It was a tough course and I was sure that once with them, I would not be able to resist hanging on to the end as best I could.  It would be good training, but my legs still had traces of marathon fatigue and stiffness and the risks of tearing something were significant.

Instead, I settled into a comfortable, but quickish pace (probably around 4:30 mins/km) and gradually left the bulk of the runners behind.  There were some very steep hills around the 9-10km mark which exposed my leg fatigue, but I was still moving quite well and always felt I could go faster if I wanted.  The only issue was my chronic right knee problem that was getting painful at times.

The last two kilometres of the “official” course was back along the steeply sloping beach between Wamberal and Terrigal.  The slope was down to the left, which is the camber my knee hates most, but the desire to run the “official” route, even though there was an equidistant road alternative, was too great.  Once on the beach, the lack of runner tracks made it clear that those in front of me had chosen the road.  I slowed my pace, and favoured my bad knee as much as possible finishing the 15.3km course in a reasonable time (1:24) given its challenging nature.  It was a good hit-out and I’m looking forward to mixing it with the front-runners, all of them ten or more years younger, next Saturday, and thereafter.

In the dark

Friday, 14 June 2013

Golf was on the agenda again for today, so I rose early to squeeze in my easy 5km, and headed out soon after 5am.  Only having been out of bed for 30 minutes, I really hadn’t loosened up and, as expected, it was a very slow first few kilometres.  Gone are the days when, during my working life, my routine involved rising at 5am and hitting the road for a (frequently quick) 10-12km at 5:30am.  Age certainly slows you down and I rarely feel loose until I have run 5km, or up a significant hill, these days.



Running at night is not a problem at New York Road Runners
New Year's Midnight Run

Anyway, it was a routine 5km through the very dark streets and I didn’t press the pace.  When living in the northern hemisphere, it seemed I never saw daylight during my morning runs for three or four months every year.  I never carried a light, but did wear a reflective vest and developed the habit on the darkest streets of running down the middle of the road where the surface was most reliable, ready to move to the left or right, depending on the direction of any approaching traffic.  This generally worked well enough in the ambient light, although I did have the occasional surprise.

One morning, running along a hedged English country lane I was nearly hit head-on by a van travelling at high speed with no lights on.  I suspect criminality was involved.  On another occasion, in the US, I stumbled on  thieves breaking a car window with a hammer.  I yelled very loudly and then took off at high speed down a side street.  My worst experience, however, occurred while running for a short distance on a sealed footpath alongside a main road in England unaware that, since the last time I ran the route, the Council had installed some concrete bollards across the path at a farm entrance.  I smashed my knee at tempo running pace into one of the bollards and went down like I had been shot.  The pain was excruciating and I spent several minutes lying on the damp pavement in the pitch darkness trying to work out what had happened before limping home.

There were no such incidents this morning.  I noticed that my right Achilles tendon hasn’t been quite as stiff and sore this week, which is a good sign, but my right knee still has stiffness from the marathon and I sense fatigue still lurks deep in the muscles.

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.

Tactical modifications

Wednesday, 12 June 2013

I decided last night that I would be wiser to just run a “no pressure” 10km today and postpone the scheduled mid-week long run until tomorrow.  I do believe that the long runs are successfully converting me from a hiker to a runner and want to stick to my original plan, but I also want to have a faster run on Saturday morning at Trotters and can’t afford to leave the long run until too late in the week.  If I did that, then I would risk injury from running fast too soon after running long.



The main road into McMasters Beach.......
the only flat running nearby.

After spending time warming up with exercises and a few household chores, I set out around 9am for the flattest 10km available from Copa.  This involves crossing the sand bar at the mouth of the adjacent lagoon and running out and back along the main road into McMasters Beach.  There are still a few hills, and I generally avoid out-and-back courses if I can, but it’s the only option for an easier 10km from home.

I felt good in the early kilometres, moving more freely and with better running form than expected, and even contemplated converting the 10km run into a 30km run.  However, I decided to stick to the plan and later on felt a few twinges in my calf and back and some muscle fatigue in the legs, which confirmed the wisdom of my choice.

I finished in good form and decided, perversely, that I would be wiser to cut back tomorrow’s long run to 15km instead of 25-30km.  My thinking is that I have reached the point where my running form is good again, which was the purpose of the long runs, and now I would be smarter to ensure my full recovery from last Sunday’s marathon before embarking on my 17-week Melbourne Marathon program, starting this Sunday.

Choosing distance over speed

Saturday, 8 June 2013

It was an early start for me.  I was rostered to get the post-run drinks prepared for the Terrigal Trotters run and had volunteered to register the morning’s athletes, while Kev was away.  This meant that I could not warm up for the run and had to leave a couple of minutes after most of the runners.  However, I hadn’t been looking for a hard run so happily started slowly and then gradually worked my way through the slower runners, chatting as I passed, never pushing the pace.  There was one very steep hill, but rather than trying to run up it as I would normally have, I walked with my fellow athletes.



Finishing the UK Three Peaks Race in 2004

Despite the modest pace, my legs still felt more fatigued and stiff than I had hoped, particularly the quads, so the run didn’t boost my confidence that I would do well in tomorrow’s marathon.  I did feel that I was moving better, but doubt that I will be able to hold my form for 42km.

We left late morning for the five-hour drive up to South West Rocks where we were sharing an apartment with Jo, Graham and Eric for the race weekend.  Sharon was originally going to run the marathon, but sustained two stress fractures in her lower left leg a month ago, and had to withdraw.  I had entered the Half Marathon, just for something to do, but decided two days ago that my recovery from the hike that finished two weeks ago wasn’t sufficient to allow me to run fast safely.  Instead, I reasoned that an easy 42.2km was less likely to result in injury and was more in keeping with my recovery program of long slow runs every three or four days.  We arrived at race headquarters in time for me to change my race and I paid the extra fee and “upgraded” to the marathon for tomorrow.

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.

Some runs are no fun

Wednesday, 5 June 2013

I could tell by the top of the hill out of Copa this morning that my 29km was going to be hard work.  My legs felt leaden and I was breathing hard.  This wasn’t supposed to be happening.  I expected to be fresher after two easy running days, and wondered whether I was coming down with something.  I considered cutting the run short, but if I wasn’t actually ill, I couldn’t think of a good excuse.



I used to be pretty quick up hills, even aged 38.

I resigned myself to a miserable run and tried to tune out from the fatigue I was feeling.  Fortunately, I had brought along my radio and headphones, so I had some current affairs and talkback to listen to as I plodded along.  The issue with comebacks, whether from injury or a lay-off, is that the muscles that you had fine-tuned before the layoff have lost their strength and their fine-tuning.  During the comeback phase, it’s hard to maintain the most efficient posture, your running style suffers, your stride length shortens, and it takes more effort to cover the ground.  At my age I know it will take about three weeks to get this strength back.  Long slow runs help the rebuilding process, but can be very hard work.



Runners near the finish of a recent edition of the
Mount Washington Road Race (7.6 miles and 4560 ft)

Today, the hills seemed to be especially hard work, which was frustrating because I have always prided myself on my hill-running strength.  I continued on, trying not to think about how far I had to go, and eventually finished in a slow 2:41.  The whole run was worse than I had expected, but that added to the sense of satisfaction I felt when I finished and it was out of the way.  I have faith that I will feel the benefits in two or three days and have taken another step towards my goal.

Niggles or injuries

Tuesday, 4 June 2013

My feet were still red, swollen and itchy from the leech bites when I got up and I tied my shoes more loosely than usual to ease the discomfort.  However, my main concern was how my right groin niggle was going to feel on this morning’s run.  If it was worse than on Sunday, then I would be smart to rethink my training plans for the remainder of the week.  I was hoping to do another long run tomorrow as part of my comeback, but knew I would be stupid to do that, if I had a worsening injury.

The climb out of Copa is never easy

I have found that it is often the second day after a long and/or hard run when any injuries show up.  I’m not sure if there’s any medical basis for this theory, but maybe the general soreness and fatigue on the day after a long run can mask injuries.  I also sometimes wonder whether long runs generate certain reactions in the body that facilitate lubrication and movement and that it takes these responses a day to fade away and reveal the extent of any specific injuries.

Anyway, this morning I set out with a little more trepidation than usual on the second day after Sunday’s long run.  The first kilometre of my usual recovery 10km is mostly flat and I jogged very slowly as I examined my body for any signs of injury with every step.  My right knee and Achilles were a little sore, but although I could feel some minor pain in the right groin, it didn’t seem any worse than on Sunday.  The second kilometre of this run is a steady climb, and as usual, I was warmed up by the time I reached the top.  Despite some general stiffness and lethargy, I felt comfortable and went on to complete the run without any problems in a reasonable time for the course.  I never force the pace or run to a time on these recovery runs, just cruise along at whatever pace feels comfortable.  The time I run for the known course gives me good feedback on how recovered I am.  By tomorrow, I should feel a bit fresher and will take the risk of a longer run.

I have entered the Macleay River Half Marathon on Sunday, more by default than for any other reason.  Sharon was entering the associated marathon, and since we were going to be there for the weekend anyway, I decided I might as well have a run.  However, during today’s run I began question the wisdom of running the Half.  I would probably end up running faster than was good for me at this time and maybe risk injury for no reward.  Instead, depending on how the next few days of training goes, maybe I will upgrade to the Marathon, if I can, and just treat it as the next long run in my comeback series of long runs.

Recovering from long runs

Monday, 3 June 2013

In my running prime in Melbourne, I frequently ran with a group for a hard 30km or more in the Dandenong Ranges on a Sunday morning and followed it up with a social 10km warm-down run with some of the same running friends on the grass oval at Wattle Park in the evening.  I won’t say it was easy to do, but it was quite manageable in terms of recovery.  As the years have passed, there has been a very noticeable decline in my recovery rate after a long run and even a 10km run the next day has become a chore.  My body is still very stiff 24 hours after the long run and these 10km runs would be very slow and very hard work.

It took me a long time to get over the 2008 Deep
Space Trail Marathon

For many years, right through into my fifties, I still forced myself to run on the days after long runs thinking that it was weakness to give in to the creaks and groans from my ageing body.  I finally began to wonder whether this dogged perseverance was actually hindering my recovery and increasing the risk of subsequent injury and began to experiment with walking on the recovery day as an alternative.

I feel sure that, for the cardio-vascular system, it would be better to run than walk on recovery days.  However, I am now of the opinion that walking is the right option for me in my sixties.  It gently works the same muscles, is weight-bearing and burns nearly as many kilojoules as would a run of the same distance.  I am thinking about adding an evening jog to my morning walk as I ramp up my training for the Melbourne Marathon on the basis that the morning walk will work out the post-long run stiffness, but will back off if it seems not to be working.

After a bad night’s sleep resulting from yesterday’s leech bites, I was late to get myself out the door for my recovery 5km walk and a little fearful that the right Achilles and groin pain might still be significant.  As it turned out, I could feel both injuries, but not badly enough to change my training plans for the week, and I felt better for having the exercise.

Joys of trail running

Sunday, 2 June 2013

In the last two years, I have organised occasional runs along the Great North Walk (GNW) for interested Terrigal Trotters members.  We hire a bus, charge a small fee, and drop runners at one point on the GNW and pick them up at another.  The runs vary in length between 25km and 40km and we provide some drinks and nibbles somewhere along the way and at the finish.  The runs have become quite popular with usually 20 to 40 people participating.

Today was the GNW run from Wakefield to Congewai, a distance of 40km, with a shorter 30km option.  I planned to do the 40km as the next in my program of a long run every three days with the goal of turning myself from a hiker into a runner.  Although yesterday’s run indicated to me that I was making progress, I still didn’t feel like a runner and my right Achilles tendon, and now my right groin, were giving me some trouble.  It may have been safer to have a rest day, but I enjoy the GNW runs for the camaraderie and bush experience, and with two easier training days coming up, I decided to take the chance and run.



Finishing the Wakefield to Congewai 40km Trotters Trail Run

It turned out to be a wet, cold and windy day and I hung back early and tried to run within myself while enjoying the company of some fellow runners for the early kilometres.  This section of the GNW is particularly tough and it took about 4 hours to cover the first 23km that included precipitous ascents and descents on slippery muddy trail through very dark and gloomy rainforest valleys.  I wasn’t going fast, but the climbs and dangerous footing gradually wore me down anyway.  Much of the last 17km was on a saturated and puddle-strewn fire trail along a high windswept ridge in steady rain and gale-force winds.  I was only wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and began to get very cold with an hour to go and was dreaming of dry clothes and a warm bus.  I stopped to put on the rain-jacket I was carrying and this took longer than it should because of the difficulty I had in using my fingers.  I was getting clumsy and I knew this was a bad sign in these conditions.  As is my habit in challenging conditions, I kept reminding myself that I was still moving at an acceptable pace and that my brain was functioning.

Eventually I reached the point where the trail becomes single-track and drops off the ridge down into the Congewai Valley where the bus was waiting 5km away.  I caught a couple of the club’s female members, also ready for the bus, but still in good cheer after having been lost for a while.

I knew I was a bit cold-affected when I took an inordinately long time to dry off and change into warmer clothes, and I was still shivering 30 minutes later.  However, I had completed the run as planned, and although both Achilles and groin were quite sore at times, was optimistic that there was no serious damage done.  One after effect of the run lingered through the night during which I woke numerous times with itchy, painful and swollen feet reacting to the number of leech bites I had sustained.  Leeches are an occupational hazard of runs in the Central Coast bush in, or soon after, wet weather, but I have never reacted as badly.  It’s uncomfortable, but only a superficial problem that does not prevent me training and will be gone in a few days (although I have known people to have leech bites develop into significant infection problems).