Streaks

Ron Hill representing Great Britain against
the USA over 6 miles in 1963 (he won, note
the bare feet)

After two days of relatively hard training on the comeback trail (meaning my body is less able to absorb the training load), I found it hard to drag myself out for a run this morning, even though only a short easy run was planned.  What saved me from a missed day was "routine", and the promise to myself that I will not miss a day unnecessarily.

I think the value of routine is often underestimated, and sometimes "pooh-poohed" as reflecting inflexibility or a lack of imagination.  In my case, almost invariably, I dress for a run when I get up in the morning and know that breakfast will not happen until the run is done.  Just being ready to go, can help me get out of the door in the morning.

I also have an expectation of myself that I will spend some time training every day.  If you give yourself permission to miss a day when you don't feel like it, or you go to bed not really knowing what training you are going to do the next day, it is too easy to make a snap decision not to bother.

Ron Hill, still running every day, 48 years later
(courtesy The Independent, www.independent.co.uk)

Once you build up a record of sticking to your planned daily exercise, you are less likely to capriciously miss a day. 

Many years ago, apart from when seriously injured, I would not miss a day, but I never had the total dedication of one of my early running heroes, Ron Hill, who has run at least a mile every day since December 1964.  He's even done his mile on crutches after surgery.  Of course, he is an extreme example, but for a long time he was one of the best distance runners in the world and I'm sure his single-minded training regime was one of the reasons.

These days, I will only miss a day's training in exceptional circumstances, though the definition of "exceptional" is not as strict as thirty years ago.  I have also modified my definition of training to include walking when it seems more sensible than running.  In days gone by, walking didn't cut it, and the time spent running had to exceed the time spent getting prepared to run and showering and dressing afterwards.  In my heyday, that meant at least 8km, but these days it's closer to 5km, sadly.

My Achilles tendon was less sore than yesterday for this morning's 5km, but my arch was still sore.  I felt heavy-legged and stiff, so am not optimistic about tomorrow's Terrigal Trotters 10km Hilly Time Trial.  Another long warm-up will be required.

Never give up

Bill running in the 2006
Bay to Bay 12km Fun Run

I was a little anxious about how this morning's run would go after the running Six at Six last night, but wanted to go a decent distance to compensate for missing the originally planned long run yesterday.  So after the Thursday morning track session at The Haven, I set out to run my regular 16km course.  My legs were dead, and it felt like I needed new shock absorbers in my joints, but I plodded around at a slow pace, keeping myself going with the thought of a muffin and milkshake reward at the end.  My right arch was sore on the downhills and my right Achilles was sore on the uphills so that added to my misery, but I don't think either of these injuries is bad enough to stop my return to full training in the next few weeks.

I feel a sense of sadness today, because a much-respected Terrigal Trotter died yesterday after a relatively brief illness.  Bill had had a good innings, as they say, reaching his late eighties, but even a few months ago he seemed destined to keep recording his Saturday morning runs at Trotters for another few years yet (he was up to 658!).

In his mid-eighties, Bill was a regular at my Tuesday evening track sessions on the grass track in Gosford.  He was exasperated with how much speed he had lost in the previous few years, and annoyed that he wasn't making the official cut-off times in races that mattered to him.  We decided that it would be a good idea for him to focus on shorter repetitions, 200m and 300m, in the hope of improving his form, stride length and speed.  He was still quite capable of completing the regular Trotters Saturday morning runs, so stamina and determination weren't the issues.

Each week he would come down to the track and run his repetitions as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast.  I would see him coming down the straight, going as hard as he could, often leaning slightly sideways, with little kids from Frank's squad flying past him - the eight year olds vs the eighty year old.  As he crossed the line each time, he would fumble with his watch trying to press the stop button.  Sometimes, this would take up to ten seconds, and then he would struggle to read it and tell me his time for recording.  Almost invariably, he would be dissatisfied, and would "harrumph" disgustedly before trudging off across the ground to begin his next repetition.

He was everything I want to be in my eighties.  Determined not to give in easily to old age, unwilling to accept the standards society seeks to impose on octogenarians, and living his life to the full.  He knew, and we knew, that he couldn't go on forever, but that doesn't make it any less sad that he has gone.

Six at Six

I used to have more speed (taking
over from JB in the 1976
Pakenham to Healesville Relay)

A long run had been my plan for today, but the vagaries of washing machine repair scheduling and other commitments ruled out getting enough free consecutive hours for such a run.  As an alternative, I decided to run the weekly Six at Six (6@6) race held in Gosford every Wednesday evening for many years.  It requires five laps around a 1.2km circuit of mixed surface and involves one short sharp concave hill that knocks the stuffing out of you in each lap.  For some years now, Terrigal Trotters has had "ownership" of the event, but responsibility usually falls to one individual, at present Suzy, to manage it each week and publish results.  It is very low key, but provides a good opportunity to develop some speed endurance and for friendly rivalry.  More recently, a number of parents have been bringing their children along to run some, or all, of the laps, so a family atmosphere has developed, and hopefully, some junior athletic interest kindled.

I only got in one track training session before getting injured when initially preparing for this year's Melbourne Marathon.  It may not have been the cause of the injury, but the coincidence of track training and injuries for me in the last ten years is pretty damning.  As an alternative, I have decided to experiment with running the 6@6 as my speed work, even though Wednesday night is not optimal in my training week.  Of course, there was a time previously when I ran 6@6 regularly, but I gave it away when I got injured, so I'm not overly confident it will be a sustainable training option.

Anyway, I drove into the start this evening, arriving an hour before the race, and ran an easy 10km amongst the evening peak hour traffic as a warm-up.  I have vowed to myself that I'm going to warm-up properly before any faster running in my marathon quest, and the extra kilometres won't do my weekly mileage any harm.  It was a worrying that my right arch became a little painful in the last few kilometres, but I decided to run the race anyway.  Only about eight runners turned up, and I was soon well behind the leaders as we climbed the hill for the first time.  I tried to settle into a comfortable pace and completed my 6km in 25:44.  It wasn't a fast time (I really need to be running well under 24 minutes), but it was faster than I expected, and I was pleased that each lap was a little faster than the one before.

I think the long warm-up worked well for me, and I don't feel like I have aggravated any injuries, so I'm hoping to incorporate it into my weekly training program henceforward.

Hong Kong

Coombe Road

This morning's 10km run went a little better than expected.  I had been anxious about how my arch would be after Sunday's punishment, but although still sensitive, wasn't too bad.  My legs felt heavy, and I wasn't running particularly smoothly, but the time for my usual "garbage" 10km was an acceptable 54 minutes. 

On the subject of "garbage" runs, my favourite over the years is the 13km loop I used to run while working in Hong Kong.  In the late 1980s and early 1990s, I used to travel there quite often, sometimes for a month or two at a time.  Our corporate office was in the Pacific Place complex, and I usually stayed in one of the adjacent hotels.

Bowen Road

Hong Kong Island has many pedestrian pathways and minor roads criss-crossing the jungle-clad mountains, high above the sky-scrapers and sea.  When I first went there, I was quickly and pleasantly surprised to find places you could run that seemed far away from the hustle and bustle.

A run on my regular course started with turning the air conditioner to maximum power and minimum temperature as I left my room.  The usual heat and humidity, even in the early morning, meant that I returned over-heated and bathed in sweat.  The ritual became to strip off and stand under the air conditioning vent reading the paper for ten minutes or so until I stopped sweating.  Showering immediately after the run was useless, because I would still be sweating when I emerged, no matter how cold the water.

Looking over Hong Kong from near Bowen Road

The course was tough, climbing steadily for the first three kilometres, initially past apartment blocks (my favourite was called "Wealthy Towers"), and then higher along the main road to Magazine Gap.  There, I crossed to the south side of the Island and journeyed along the shady and quiet Coombe Road to Wan Chai Gap before joining Black's Link path.  This paved footpath contoured around a mountain, passing through one of Hong Kong's excellent regional parks, and provided fantastic views to the south coast.  It eventually reached civilisation again and then there was a steady downhill stretch alongside the busy Wong Nai Chung Gap Road past the Hong Kong Cricket and Tennis Clubs.  If I was feeling good, it was possible to fly down this section for a couple of kilometres before turning off on the famous pedestrian-only Bowen Road.

The Bowen Road follows a contour along the jungle-clad mountainside high above the main business district and the harbour.  The hum of a city starting a new day drifts up from below, but is offset by the peaceful routine of the Tai Chi practitioners and the smell of incense from the small wayside shrines along the Road.  In my opinion this is the best city running path in the world.  Again, if you are feeling good, it's possible to stretch out, and enjoy overtaking other runners.  After 4 kilometres of Bowen Road, the course turned downhill and returned to the hotel.

Why trail running

A group of Terrigal Trotters running the Patonga-
Little Wobby trail loop in 2012

The night after a long hard run is often punctuated by sudden awakenings with cramp or sore joints, and last night was no different.  My right knee, in particular, was sore, and my right arch as well.  After going through my morning usual exercises I felt a little more flexible and later went for a 5km walk.  The arch injury is definitely a little worse after yesterday's run, but not that bad that I'm contemplating time off running.  I'll try an easy 10km tomorrow and then play it by ear for the rest of the week, though optimally, I would like to do another easy long run on Wednesday as part of my program to regain lost fitness.

The Terrigal Trotters Facebook page was humming with comment about yesterday's trail run last night and today, most of it good-natured banter about those runners who lost their way at some point.  The growth in the popularity of trail running in recent years has been dramatic, and I often ponder on its drivers.

Another stop on the Patonga-Little Wobby loop

Is it a reaction to our claustrophobic urban life?  We live in an artificial environment, usually within the sound and sight of neighbours and traffic, and our training runs are through busy suburban settings.  I think there is something within many of us, maybe a kind of primeval instinct, that wilderness satisfies.  Almost a sense of belonging.  Trail-running evokes a sense of space and purity and an appreciation for the wild.  It rejuvenates the spirit, but also reminds us how small and transient we are in the scheme of things.  Running over mountains, through old growth forests and past ancient rock formations puts us in our place, as well as inspiring awe.

Sometimes a bit of swimming is involved
in trail running (also on the Patonga-Little
Wobby loop)

Maybe we have an unsatisfied need to face challenges and unknowns that have disappeared from our routine and molly-coddled lives?  I think the popularity of fun runs and marathon running grew out of a desire to test ourselves, realise our potential, and find our boundaries in a society where risks are minimised and physical challenges rare.  As these events have become commonplace and conquerable, runners have looked for something more.  There is a satisfaction in completing a run or event through an environment where dangers lurk, and help is far away.  Not so much the dangers from wildlife, which are generally minor, but the risks from falls, uncompromising terrain, weather conditions, navigation and inadequate nutrition and hydration.  There is seldom a trail run involving a group of people that does not yield adventures and stories of obstacles overcome.

Perhaps it's something as simple as trail-running being less damaging to the runner's body?  That's not to say that it's easy, but in trail running, there is a tendency to run slower and to have the footfall, muscle and joint demands vary with each step.  It's more of an all-round physical work-out, but not as tough on specific parts of the body.  In long road runs, the exact same footfall is repeated with every step, as is the very specific impact on muscles and joints.

Whatever the reason or reasons, I think trail running is here to stay, for very good reasons.

Old Great North Road Run

Terrigal Trotters getting ready to tackle the Old Great
North Road

I set out on the Terrigal Trotters 42km trail run along the convict-built Old Great North Road with some optimism, hoping that once I got onto the trail and amongst the beautiful and wild scenery of Yengo National Park, some kind of running form would return.  However, in the back of my mind lurked the thought that this might be wishful thinking.



Heading up Devines Hill

I started slowly, walking most of the first long climb, and then settled into a comfortable slow pace, glad to find that my right Achilles tendon was less painful than yesterday and that my right knee and arch were more or less behaving.  Around 20km, however, I started to feel quite tired on what was a warm and sunny day.  After that, it became a slog with plenty of walking on the hills and rockier parts of the trail, and I finished close to the back of the field in just over six hours.

Peter and Al tackling some single-track

In retrospect, I had no justification for thinking that I could run a solid 42km today, but it was disappointing, nevertheless.  I only resumed light running three weeks ago and haven't done any long runs, but I kind of hoped that the fitness I had before I got injured would have lingered longer.  At times like this, it is easy to think that good form and performances will never return.  As you plod along, an hour or more behind people you think you should be running with, it can be hard to fathom how you are going to make up that hour.

I just have to remind myself that a runner's potential is defined by their best performances, not their worst, and that if I stick to a well-thought-out program, and don't get injured, good form will return.  On the subject of injury, it was a bit worrying that my right arch began to get quite painful again in the last hour or two of the run, and I'm hoping I haven't set myself back.  I'll just go for a walk tomorrow and will have a better idea then.

Centre of gravity

The start of the Vicary Road hill on Mark's Run

After feeling so bad for what was only a short run yesterday morning, I decided it might be smart to run a few kilometres as a warm-up for this morning's Terrigal Trotters run.  So, at 5:30am, I headed off to the nearby Haven to run a few laps.  It was hard to imagine, as I hobbled along, that I would soon be running at five minute kilometre pace with my fellow Trotters.  My most recent injury, the right arch, seemed to be the least of my worries.  It was the older chronic right knee and Achilles injuries that were causing me the most grief.

I have a theory that if one of my Achilles tendons is sore, then I don't stretch it as much as I drive off with that leg, my stride shortens and my centre of gravity is further back than usual.  The consequence is that my running form is less efficient and it takes more effort to maintain a certain pace.  As the Achilles loosens up, the centre of gravity moves forward and running efficiency improves.  On my warm-up, my form was anything but efficient, and my Achilles was very sore, but I didn't try to force it (see earlier post titled "Managing a chronic Achilles").  Instead I just hoped that if I took it easy for the first kilometres of Trotters' "Mark's Run", the Achilles would loosen and I would be able to cope with the very significant hills later on the route.

Mark's Run passes through the very tranquil Erina Valley

As it turned out, the Achilles didn't loosen up to the point where I could stride out and feel balanced until after 10 kilometres.  Prior to that it was manageable running downhill and on the flat at slower speeds, but I was well back in the field.  When we reached the tough hills, which would normally be a strength, I just had to take them very gingerly and avoid putting any severe pressure on my right ankle, trying to prevent the Achilles from stretching too far.  It was frustrating and unpleasant.

The last 4km of the run were actually quite enjoyable as I finally began to run properly, and at a reasonable speed, for an old bloke.  The Achilles problem comes and goes, and it's not always possible to work out what triggers it.  Maybe I tie the shoes too tight and they grip too firmly on the tendon, or maybe it's running on an uneven or soft surface.  Eventually, I suspect more surgery will be needed.

Tomorrow's 42km trail run will be a challenge, but I will be running slowly and in a different pair of shoes.  I'm keen to do the run both because it's through a beautiful part of the world, and because I need some long runs to build fitness.  One bright spot today was that, although I could feel some sensitivity in my right arch, it continues to improve and seems to be the least of my current problems.

Frankfurt

The path along the Nidda River

Before returning to the golf course this morning, for the first time in a couple of months, I went for a chilly and very slow 5km jog in the pre-dawn darkness.  I never felt good running and was just glad to get it over.  I'm hoping some form and fitness returns before tomorrow's Terrigal Trotters 12km run, and the long bush trail run planned for Sunday.  It could be a tough and painful weekend.

Last night, at the track session I supervise at Adcock Park in Gosford, one of the runners, Jodie, was telling us about his daunting business travel itinerary for the next couple of weeks and we were discussing the challenges of running and minding your diet on such trips.  Europe was going to be part of his journey and it put me in mind of the time I was working and living, part-time, in Frankfurt in the early 1990s, and my favourite regular "garbage" run there (see post titled St Louis for the explanation of a garbage run).

My run took me close to the Bundesbank

For a year or two, I was assigned to manage our company's German operation while living near London and regularly spent time in Frankfurt, often travelling there on the first Monday flight and returning on the last Friday flight.  I either stayed in a small hotel, or in a company apartment, both near our office.  It was an exciting time to be in Germany as the Berlin Wall had just come down and reunification was in overdrive.

I grew to love my regular Frankfurt morning run which was a little under 14km and took me about an hour in those days.  It usually started in darkness as I headed west through quiet narrow apartment-lined residential streets for a few kilometres before reaching open parkland in the city's northwest.  My most vivid memory of this run is the loud twittering of thousands of birds in the trees each morning as the eastern skies brightened.  I don't know what type they were, probably something like sparrows or starlings, and they were there every morning.  Even now, when I hear the loud sound of thousand of birds all twittering at once, my mind immediately goes back to that dawn run through Frankfurt.

Grunebergpark

The middle part of the run followed the banks of the Nidda River before swinging back towards the city through a small forest.  The last few kilometres took me past the powerful Bundesbank, through the lovely manicured Gruneburgpark, and by the gates of a small American military base, before I returned to my hotel/apartment.  There were few hills in the whole run, and if I felt good, I often ran quite quickly.  The post-run breakfast of coffee and freshly-baked bread rolls with butter and jam in the little Turmhotel dining room also lingers fondly in my memory.

Familiar companions

As you get older, you get used to running with
 chronic injuries.  Nearing the finish of the
1991 Watford (UK) Half Marathon (~75mins)

After an "easy" day yesterday, I wanted to run a bit further this morning.  I'm still coming back from the right arch injury and my goal is to be back in full training by the end of August.  However, because the injury is still present to a degree, I'm reluctant to adopt my usual "get fit quick" plan of long runs every three or four days.  Instead, I'm alternating easy runs with "longish" runs and gradually increasing the distance.

So, despite feeling slow and unfit, I set out on a 16.5 km loop from The Haven after the Thursday morning track session.  I felt I was barely making forward progress up the first steep hills on the Scenic Highway, and my right leg was a bit of a basket case, with the knee, arch and Achilles tendon, all painful.  As it flattened out and I covered more distance, I began moving more freely, but the right leg problems remained extant.  It was never an easy run, and the hills were particularly tough, but my time of 1:26 was just a couple of minutes slower than last time I ran the same course two months ago.

A non-athlete might ask why anyone would not only continue to run, but increase their mileage, when they are carrying injuries.  I say non-athlete, because most sports people, and especially those past their prime, frequently train and compete while carrying injuries.  Often these injuries are as familiar as old friends, or maybe companions is a better word.

I don't enjoy the pain I get from my right knee and Achilles tendon, but they are well known to me and I don't expect them to stop me running, though accept it will happen some time.  My recent right arch injury is beginning to enter the same category.  For the last few weeks, the pain is always there, some times worse than others, but I now have enough experience of the injury to know that I can back up and run the next day without it getting worse.  The pain is becoming familiar and manageable.  It's more tolerable because I have less fear that it will become worse, or affect my running form enough to cause compensatory injuries.  The injuries are most likely connected, and my optimistic view is that my body will gradually adapt and the pain will diminish.

It would be nice to run injury-free, and I know there will be occasional purple patches ahead of me when everything is functioning well, but more often than not there will be some pain while running.  I judge the benefit from continuing to run as far outweighing the costs.  The pain generally stops, or is vastly reduced, when I stop running and I then enjoy the health benefits and sense of well-being that accompanies fitness.

Ridgetops Tour

Northern Flinders Ranges

All body parts seemed to be creaking when I rose this morning, and my bad knee had been painful at times during the night.  Such is the price of a longish (barely) run, up and down steep hills and along trails, when old and unfit.  I knew that this morning's "easy" 10km would not be very easy, and that proved to be the case.  The further I went, the looser my limbs became, but I was slow and my knee hurt.  Despite all that, and a slow time for my regular 10km, my mood was good.  Providing I don't slip back into injury, I can sense that I'm getting fitter and I know that the aches and pains will diminish in the next week or so if I soldier on.

In the absence of other news, I thought I would include another anecdote from my running past.  This one tells the tale of a long run during a camping trip to the Arkaroola section of the northern Flinders Ranges with another couple in the early 1980s.   See the St Mary's Peak post for the story of another run on an earlier vacation.  Below is an edited version of the story submitted to the Kew-Camberwell newsletter about the run.

_______________________________________

THE RIDGETOPS TOUR

The Ridgetops Tour trail

For those who haven't had the pleasure of travelling the Ridgetops Tour, a comparison of it with the Luna Park Scenic Railway is justified.  Pratty and I decided to run the length of the track and then to push on for another four or five miles along a disused, impassable trail to Paralana Hot Springs where we were to be met by our wives who were going to drive there via another route. We estimated the total distance to be about 20 miles (32km) and set off early to avoid the heat of the day after trying to memorise the wall map we had seen.  The track wasn't open to the public and the only access was via commercial tours, so there were no maps available and we were not sure we were even allowed to go there.

It is true that I wasn't at peak fitness for this little exploit, but I feel that I should point out that the reason I started to fall behind on the precipitous hills at an early stage in the run had more to do with the large hole which opened in the sole of my left shoe and continually filled with sand and gravel than Pratty's scintillating pace.

The northern turn-around point for the Ridgetops Tour
(we continued down the track at the bottom of the photo)

After ninety minutes, we were caught by that day's organised Land Rover tour.  The tourists expressed some amazement at our stupidity, but nevertheless, gave us some liquids, which were rather scarce (actually non-existent) in this part of the world.  Amongst the tourists, there were, almost inevitably, people who Pratty knew (he always meets people he knows in the strangest places).  The fact that they were schoolgirls was never explained to my satisfaction.

After two and a half hours, we reached the turnaround point for the tour at about the same time as the Land Rover (which had made some detours) and, after another beggared drink (it was now quite hot and the tourists were beginning to regret the drinks they had given us earlier), and next-to-useless guidance from the tour driver as to the direction we were to take to get to Paralana Hot Springs, we set off in the general direction of Cape York down a boulder-strewn trail.

I don't remember a lot about this last five miles, apart from heat, glare, thirst and circling birds of carrion as we pushed slowly on along dry river beds and across rocky clearings.  I do recall that Pratty was no longer pushing the pace.

To everybody's considerable surprise (including my own), we arrived at the Springs more or less on schedule and without getting lost.  Training was light for the next few days.

Getting out the door

The Bouddi Coastal Path

The day didn't start too well.  I was still processing Great North Walk 100s entries after midnight and didn't finish and get to bed until 1:30am.  After sleeping in to 8:00am, I woke to discover I had made an error in the payment details emailed to successful entrants and needed to send out a correction, and deal with emails and calls from those who had already tried to pay.  Ultra-runners are a friendly bunch, and fortunately everybody was understanding about my stuff-up.

Feeling a bit under the weather after such a long day yesterday and the late start and problems of this morning, I wasn't enthused by the thought of a late morning run, especially a longer one as planned.  Nevertheless, around 11:00am, on a beautiful warm and sunny day, I dragged myself out the door and set off for an easy 22km run following a course that gave multiple options for short-cuts if I felt bad, or my right arch was hurting too much.

Just a small section of the Maitland
Bay steps

The course incorporated some quiet roads and trails, much of it in the nearby Bouddi National Park.  As discussed in an earlier post, Small Explorations, I find that choosing a course with some interest is a good way of dealing with the "I really don't want to go for a run" problem.  My chosen route incorporated some stiff climbs, including the stairs up from Maitland Bay, but I took it slowly, enjoying the weather and stopping briefly a couple of times to take in the views (and once to help some tourists).  Some new blisters had developed during the City to Surf run on Sunday, a product of the new orthotic insoles I was wearing, so for today I reverted to the original insoles supplied with the shoes.  I was conscious of some occasional pain in my right arch, but it wasn't serious and I finished the run thinking that I will now stick with these insoles.

I finished tired and sweaty, with aching legs, but know this is what I need - some long steady runs that will help me regain the form I was enjoying a couple of months ago.  We have a 42km Terrigal Trotters trail run scheduled for Sunday, and this morning's run gives me confidence I'll be able to go the distance.  The wisdom of going for the run, even though I really didn't want to, was confirmed.

In my opinion, this is one of the testing times for all serious runners.  That is, forcing yourself to go for training runs when you really, really, don't want to.  It's worth persevering.  Not only do you get a training benefit from the run in question, but the experience goes into your psychological "bank".  That is, you gain self-confidence and self-respect by knowing that you can make yourself do things that other runners would not, and it becomes easier to get out for a run the next time it seems too much trouble.

Today's run finished around the edges of Cockrone Lagoon

I can recall a particular training run, sometime in the late 1970s, when I was working full-time and doing my Masters part-time.  It was a miserable wet and dark winter's Wednesday evening.  A tutorial at the University after work meant I didn't get home until about 7:30pm.  My training program (I was running over 200km per week) called for a 35km road run that evening.  Though hungry and desperate to have the night off running, I forced myself out the door and set off through the Melbourne suburbs, a lonely figure splashing along the dark footpaths.  Somewhere in the middle of that run, when I was passing through an industrial area in light drizzle, the thought suddenly came to me that few, if any, other runners in Australia would have been willing to do this run.  The thought buoyed me for the rest of the run.  I realised that I may not have the talent of some of my fellow marathon competitors, but I was sure none of them was training harder.

This is an exaggeration, of course.  There are many athletes, not all of them "elite", who force themselves to go out on training runs when they would rather be doing something else.  They will know what I'm talking about.

Day off

Delivering the pre-race briefing before the 2012 Great
North Walk 100s trail races

I never did manage to get out for a run or walk today, but I doubt that has done me any harm, given that I was stiff and sore last night after the City to Surf.  My right arch has been occasionally painful, but it's hard to know whether it is any worse for the weekend's running.
I was planning an easy day anyway, but the opening at 6:00am of entries for the Great North Walk 100s (GNW100s) trail races, for which I'm the Race Director, left me with a lot of processing and a reason to stay at my desk. 

What was already going to be a busy day, wasn't helped by a power cut in late afternoon, and I still have many entries to review as I update this blog.  Of course, we could pay for online entry processing, but given the small size of the field we'll accept (200 entries), the cost per entry is excessive.  Additionally, the extreme nature of the event, I like to try and review the entry qualifications of each applicant before accepting them.

The event is a labour of love, so I don't mind the extra work.  This will be the 9th running, and although there are times I regret ever having started it, I generally think it has been a worthwhile project for my retirement.  The relish the participants show for the challenge and the enthusiasm with which my Terrigal Trotters clubmates support the event is very rewarding.

While I was working full-time, I seldom had the time to help at community or sporting events.  Now I'm retired, I have the opportunity to make up for those years, and I'm lucky enough to have a number of running-related activities that I enjoy helping, including organising the GNW100s.

City to Surf

Waiting for the City to Surf start
  

It was a good day, and a frustrating day.  I journeyed into Sydney this morning for the annual 14km City to Surf Fun Run with my fellow Terrigal Trotters in a convoy of two minibuses after a 5:00am pick-up.  We had a very enjoyable day, along with 85,000 others, in excellent Sydney winter weather - cool to start, but sunny and warm by mid-morning.

Most of my club-mates ran very well, exceeding or meeting their goal times, and I was pleased for them.  It's not an easy race, and you have to prepare well and hang in there, to get a good time.  I don't think I did either particularly well.  Of course, I've only been back running for two weeks and only done any significant training this week, so I can rationalise my 63:03 time (4:30 mins/km) as about right for my fitness.  However, I didn't enjoy it.  From the start, where we stood around for over an hour in the cool morning air, I did not feel like I was travelling well.  My sore right arch hurt a bit, and my running form was poor, maybe partly due to the tempo run yesterday that left me a little stiff and sore.

Heading through the tunnel

I steadily lost ground to those around me early on, and kept telling myself that once I warmed up I would catch them on the hills later.  This never really happened.  I was still feeling rough up the major climb at half-way, and then just tried to relax on the run in to iconic Bondi Beach.  I never checked my watch en route, and was a little worried that my time would be slower than the 70 minutes required to qualify for the Red Start next year.  However, as it turned out, I was well inside that time, but I never threatened my usual Trotters' rivals, who all ran very well.

Bondi Beach

I don't think there's any way of avoiding these tough comeback runs, really.  You somehow have to get from doing nothing to good form and somewhere between the two are going to be some runs where you feel frustrated and unfit.  I just have to keep my eye on the main goal and not stress about these runs.

Some long easy runs would help me get fit more quickly, but I'm worried that my arch injury is still causing some pain and it might be unwise to test it further at the moment.  I will have an easy day tomorrow and then decide what is wise training for the balance of the week.

Fun Runs

I preferred the smaller Fun Runs with uncrowded
starts and a good chance of prizes and/or glory

Tomorrow is the annual City to Surf 14km Fun Run and there are more than thirty Trotters making the journey to join 85,000 other runners for the run from Sydney to Bondi Beach.  I entered some time ago, before I injured my arch, and a few weeks ago had given up on the idea of running.  However, the arch has definitely improved in the last two weeks and I will join my club-mates tomorrow.  This will be only the second time I have run City to Surf, and I never ran it whilst in my running prime.

I always considered I lacked the basic speed necessary to do well in the mass participation Fun Runs, though I did surprise myself (and a few other people) once with a third place in the 1981 13km Melbourne Exacto Team Trot (39:28).  Even with an "elite" start, and I rarely got those, you had to run very fast from the start to avoid being swamped by runners who then slowed dramatically after a few hundred metres.  Without an elite start, you had to line up for an hour or more to get a good spot on the starting line, thus ruling out any kind of a warm-up or last-minute toilet visit, neither conducive to a good performance.  Then, if you dealt with these issues and got away well at the gun, you would see "bandits" pouring out of the side streets ahead of you during the first kilometre.  Just about the last straw for me was an event (I think it was one of the old Sun Superuns that went over the Westgate Bridge in Melbourne), where I had managed to get a reasonable start then saw one of my club-mates, a better-performed 10km runner than me, appear from a side alley about 500 metres after the start and join the field about fifty metres in front of me.  I never did catch him.

I developed an aversion to the mass participation Fun Runs, though was always happy to run in the minor ones where the start wasn't a problem and there was a chance of prizes and/or glory.  A bigger fish in a smaller pond.

The City to Surf isn't high on my priority list as a runner, but it will be an enjoyable day with my club-mates, and it will be inspiring to see so many people out running on what promises to be a beautiful Sydney winter morning.  Not having any expectations about my performance, and happily resigned to taking it easy in the early kilometres, I will just cruise and be entertained.

Terrigal Trotters generally schedule an "easier" Saturday morning run when there is a big running event the next day, such as the City to Surf.  This morning's, "Marg's Meander", barely qualified as easy.  Early on there is a lung-busting hill that really blows away any cobwebs, and later in the 11.5km course, there are a few smaller hills to keep you honest.  I started gently so as not to aggravate my right arch injury and then, after the first hill, just tried to maintain a comfortable tempo pace whilst avoiding the temptation to chase the runners I could see ahead.  The latter became academic after 8km as my lack of training caught up with me.

I finished feeling very tired, unfit, coughing and out-of-breath.  About the best thing that could be said about the run was that my sore arch seemed to handle it OK.  I have had a bit of a cough the last few days, so I hope I'm just dealing with a minor cold.  On the other hand, because I associated it with a developing pattern of headaches, I stopped taking asthma medication a few weeks ago and I definitely felt I was wheezing a bit on the hills and later in the run.  Of course, it's probably just the cold and lack of fitness, but like all serious runners, there's a lot of self-analysis going on.