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Old age is no fun

This bike path, suspended below the freeway, wasn't here
when I used to run this course.

I've said it before.  Old age is no fun.  I spent Thursday (two days ago) driving the 1000km down from Copa to Melbourne for a family occasion this weekend, and unbelievably, I've acquired some kind of injury.  When I left Copa I was whole and since arriving in Melbourne I have been limping around with a very painful strained adductor muscle at the top of my right leg.  I stopped for a 6km run at Reef Hills State Park to break up the journey and it's probable that after sitting in the car for so long, my ageing ligaments and muscles had trouble dealing with some very gentle running.  I did some stretching followed by about 0.5km of walking before starting my slow jog, but it wasn't enough.

Fairview Park was a favourite part of my one of my old
running courses.

It's an injury I have had before, and I'm hopeful it will come good quickly.  I took a chance yesterday morning and still ran my planned 12km along one of my old running routes.  It was slow and the adductor hurt, but not all the time.  It was a beautiful morning and I soaked it up, taking some pictures along the way, and remembering all of the times I had run some parts of the course going back more than 40 years.  Unfortunately the run aggravated the injury, or at least stopped it improving, and I was limping badly for the balance of the day.

The run travels both sides of the Yarra River.

After a good night's sleep, I decided I would still attempt a shorter run today.  The leg injury didn't feel quite so bad walking around and I drove to Wattle Park, another old training haunt, to run a couple of laps in warm and blustery conditions.  The nostalgia was enhanced by the sight of some good female distance athletes going through a track session on the park's oval under the direction of their coach.  I wondered if it ever occurred to them that runners were using the same oval for similar track sessions more than 40 years ago.  Probably not.  We never thought about earlier era athletes training on the same oval, and they probably did.  The adductor was better than yesterday and I completed the hilly course with less pain.  Maybe after another good night's sleep it will be even better.

These trees were planted just after I first
started running through here.

The whole story just reinforces to me the need to work into any run very gently if I want to avoid injury at my advanced age.  I wonder how slowly my runs will start out in 20 years time.  The signs are ominous.

Cadging a lift

Erina Valley this morning.

Running the same courses each week, month in month out, can get boring.  Of course, it's always possible to drive to another location to run, but that can be time-consuming.  I have written before about alleviating the boredom by doing some exploring (see posts titled "Getting out the door" and "Small explorations").

Climbing Kincumba Mt this morning.

Another method I have employed is to cadge a lift from a family member who is driving somewhere, get dropped off and then run home.  The distance can be varied according to taste, and of course, you don't have to take the most direct route home.  I've also done it when dropping the car off for a service, or similar, and there are other ways to work in a run somewhere different minimising the time cost.

Starting the technical descent from
Kincumba Mt this morning.

This morning, I asked Sharon to give me a lift to the school where she teaches near Erina so I could run home through Erina Valley and over Kincumba Mountain.  These are areas I know quite well, but I don't get to run through them that frequently.

It was a beautiful morning, yet again, and a number of times I reminded myself how lucky I was to have such great places to run, largely to myself, and to just be running again.  There were a few long climbs, and some technical descents, but the 14km passed easily, if slowly.  I'm starting to feel like a runner again.


Cassowary

The curious cassowary approaches.

Cassowaries are large flightless birds that live in northern Australia and New Guinea, ranking behind only the ostrich and emu in size.  They are reputedly hard to find, potentially dangerous and prone to chase people if disturbed.  Quoting Wikipedia: "A cassowary's three-toed feet have sharp claws. The second toe, the inner one in the medial position, sports a dagger-like claw that is 125 millimetres (5 in) long.  This claw is particularly fearsome since cassowaries sometimes kick humans and animals with their enormously powerful legs. Cassowaries can run up to 50 km/h (31 mph) through the dense forest. They can jump up to 1.5 metres (4.9 ft) and they are good swimmers."

Up close and personal with the cassowary
before starting the run.

On several trips to North Queensland prior to 2011, I had only ever seen a cassowary once, glimpsed as it emerged from the jungle beside the road as we drove by.  So, when Sharon and I visited the region in 2011, an encounter seemed unlikely, though like most tourists we hoped to see one.

We visited Mission Beach, a town south of Cairns, on one day and planned to include a short 8km run through Djiru National Park along the Musgravea Trail in our activities.  The area was known for its cassowary population, and Sharon was a little nervous about the possibility of an encounter.  I, on the other hand, thought it unlikely and played down the risks should we be lucky enough to see one.

Sharon setting the pace after the cassowary
had departed.

We parked our car at the Licuala trackhead and were very surprised to find a curious cassowary wandering around the parking area, obviously not the least bothered by our presence.  It had probably been fed by tourists (discouraged) and now associated people with food.  Sharon and I stretched and walked around a little, taking some photos and waiting for the cassowary to lose interest.  It remained curious, and eventually I became impatient to start running, while Sharon remained reticent.  I set off down the trail and almost immediately the cassowary began chasing me while Sharon, who had remained stationary, called for me to stop.  I continued running, looking over my shoulder a little warily, and very conscious of the bird's sharp talons and potential speed.  The bird continued chase behind.

On the Musgravea Trail.

Eventually, I decided discretion was the better part of valour and stopped and turned around.  The cassowary also stopped, hesitated for a moment, and then just wandered off into the scrub.  We completed our run and there was no sign of it when we returned to the car park.  We had survived our cassowary encounter, and didn't see another on the trip.

I ran an easy 5km round Copa this morning, moving a little better, but with my bad right knee quite sore all the way.

Maitland Bay

Strom's Track this morning.

After an easy day yesterday (recovery days are as important as quality days), I decided to treat myself on a beautiful sunny and warm morning with a 17km trail run over to Maitland Bay in Bouddi National Park, just about my favourite place to run locally.

Maitland Bay this morning.

I wasn't sure how I would go with the distance and hills involved, but know that if I can manage to get some longer runs in, taking care not to stress my heart, I will gradually improve my fitness.  It's not that I want to start racing again, but I feel out-of-shape, especially in the legs, and will enjoy my running more if a little fitter.

As I skirted Cockrone Lagoon, I realised it was a lot warmer than I had anticipated, but I wasn't planning to push it.  The legs were heavy and it was a long slow, and at times steep, ascent to the McMasters Fire Trail, and then the same again up to the Scenic Highway, the highest point of the run.  I kept running, making sure I didn't get to the point of breathing too heavily, and made it without stopping.  This was a confidence booster, knowing that hills I literally couldn't have walked up six weeks ago without seriously risking my health could now be run up.

Maitland Bay this morning.

From there I ran the 2km length of Strom's Track, one of the most beautiful sections of trail on the coast for running or mountain-biking.  One of my friends, Greg, told me that in his younger days, he and a few friends would run 2km repeats along this section of track for training.  It would have been fun.

Maitland Bay this morning.

At the other end of the track, I descended the steep many-stepped trail to Maitland Bay, an absolute gem of a golden arc-shaped beach bordered by thick green forest and lapped by crystal clear aquamarine water.  I hoped to have the place to myself, but a couple reached the beach the same time as me and a white yacht rode at anchor at the eastern end.

Bouddi Coastal Track this morning.

After jogging the length of the beach, I walked up the steep exit path and then used a mix of walking and running, depending on the track steepness, along the Bouddi Coastal Track.  By this time, my lack of fitness and the heat was beginning to taking more of a toll than expected and my running pace was even slower.  I told myself that there was no reason why I shouldn't walk more - I wasn't training for any races and there was no time-pressure to get fit - so that's what I did for some of the remaining hills.  It is mentally hard for me not to force myself to run up hills, even when exhausted, but I know I have to come to terms with it.

After the long descent to McMasters Beach, and feeling very tired, I decided to walk the remaining 2km home along the beach.  I was hot and debated whether to jump in for a swim in the very inviting surf, but decided it was too much hassle without a towel and still some distance to walk.

I will have another easy day tomorrow and then try another longer run on Wednesday if I feel OK.

Red Rock Canyon

Looking across Red Rock Canyon National Conservation
 Area towards the Calico Hills.

Over the past thirty years, I have visited Las Vegas as a tourist a handful of times.  Although gambling and shows have never been high on my personal priority list, the cheap accommodation and food, the mind-boggling extravagance of The Strip, and its location near such scenic wonders as the Hoover Dam, Death Valley and the Grand Canyon make it an attractive destination.

Calico Hills.

When you are staying in Las Vegas itself, there are few worthwhile running options, but at Red Rock Canyon, 25 kilometres out of town in the Mojave Desert, there are a number of trails to choose from.  After the flat monotony of the Las Vegas city landscape, it seems amazing to find such a spectacular park nearby.

Grand Circle Loop Trail, Red Rock Canyon.

My favourite run is the 18km Grand Circle Loop.  It starts from the Visitor Centre and begins climbing gradually, firstly following a dry watercourse beneath the red rocky bluffs of the Calico Hills and later across desert landscapes, occasionally crossing small dry creeks and at other times following low ridges.  In some places the running is easy and in others careful attention has to be paid on rocky technical trail.

The Grand Circle Loop trail finishes across the
 valley floor in Red Rock Canyon.

The highest elevation of about 1500m is reached at the half-way point and from there the run is mostly gradually downhill, initially below the White Rock Hills and then across the valley floor through sparse arid scrub.  The easier return running gives more chance to enjoy the expansive views back towards Las Vegas and of the surrounding rocky mountains.  A great run!

For my training today I ran an easy 5km through Copa on a balmy sunny morning.  My legs were stiff and sore from yesterday morning's run, but I didn't push the pace and it was a comfortable run.

Six Foot Track

Six Foot Track.

It's been hard not to be a little despondent today.  This morning, while I was struggling around the Trotters 16km Matcham Valley course at not much better than 6 minutes per kilometre, the Six Foot Track 45km race was starting from near Katoomba in the fabulous Blue Mountains with many friends in the field.

Blue Mountains.

Just three months ago "Six Foot" had loomed large in my training plans.  Apart from being a very challenging course in a beautiful environment, it's popularity with runners from all over Australia make it a benchmark race to see how good you really are.  I would have loved to run it in my heyday when my marathon speed combined with trail-running experience (in training) and strength on hills would have made me a podium contender.  But that's easy to say now.  Thirty years ago, there were few trail races and they were seen as something of a novelty event.  Marathons were everything to me, and I would never have targeted and trained for a specific trail race.  Even now, it's rare to find Australia's best marathon runners contesting trail races.  The reality is that, even if Six Foot had been a big race thirty years ago (it was just starting out), I probably wouldn't have run it anyway.

Six Foot Track.

Nowadays, my attitude to trail racing is different.  And three months ago, I was hoping to get a podium finish in the 60+ age group today, and maybe threaten the age group record.  I have come close in the past.  But it wasn't to be.  Health issues intervened and I must consider myself lucky to have been running anywhere today.  Nevertheless, I'm envious of my friends who are running and can't help wishing, as I write this, that I was making that helter skelter descent on the scary single track to the buzzing finish at Jenolan Caves, with legs begging for mercy and the prospect of a good time and post-race glow just minutes away.  Running just doesn't get any better than that, and it makes me sad to think I may never experience it again.

Forest Park

Forest Park, St Louis.

Forest Park in St Louis is another location that lives large in my running memory.  Between 1992 and 1997, while living and working in St Louis, I frequently visited the park for races organised by the St Louis Track Club, of which I was a member, and to train on its perimeter track on my own, or with friends.

I wouldn't describe it as the most scenic park I have run through, but it had good paths, greenery and a nice 9km lap.  But, despite its name, little forest.  The terrain wasn't so tough, but the weather could be.  St Louis is renowned for its hot and humid summers and freezing winters, and I can remember running and racing in those extremes as well as in some beautiful spring and autumn weather.

Forest Park, St Louis.

The park has history as well, being the site of the 1904 World's Fair and some of the 1904 Olympics events.  It also hosts several museums, an outdoor theater and the St Louis Zoo.  As a teen in Australia, I could remember watching Marlin Perkins' "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom" television series produced when he was director of the St Louis Zoo.  Who'da thought, thirty years later, I would frequently be running past his zoo on the other side of the world!

Forest Park in winter.

It was just a 15 minute drive from my home or office into Forest Park along the freeway and I could easily find a parking spot at the park's south-west corner.  Running clockwise, the perimeter lap started with a gentle downhill 1.5km followed by a long flat stretch along the park's northern edge.  If you were feeling good, you could really wind up on this section and then try and maintain your momentum as the path began gently climbing towards the south-east corner, the 6km mark.  From there the path paralleled the highway to the south of the park, passing the Zoo and Science Museum along the way.  This section always seemed like it should be flat, but actually you were climbing most of the way and it was often tough to maintain the pace established early in the run.

Even now, warm humid evenings evoke fond memories of running around Forest Park.

I didn't go for a run today, but walked about 5km while playing golf.  I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's Terrigal Trotters Matcham Valley 15km run, one of my favourites.

Signs are good

It was a little gloomy at Terrigal Haven this morning.

It was heart-warming at this morning's 6:00am Haven track session to have so many friends say how pleased they were for me on my return to running.

It is good to be running again, though I started my own 11km run after the track session with some apprehension.  Yesterday's heart monitor read-out after my 5km run showed a very irregular pattern for the first ten minutes, and I had felt a little uncomfortable during that time.  Today's run started with a good-sized hill, which I knew would be a good test of my heart rhythm, even if I took it slowly.  I reached the top without incident, as happened on the second long hill near the end.  Although I felt tired and unfit the whole way, it was satisfying to return to another of my regular courses.  Once home, I loaded the heart monitor data, fearing the worst, but found no evidence of any problems.

Looking north from Terrigal Haven this morning.

The next test for the day, about which I was also apprehensive, was a noon appointment with my cardiologist to check progress since the cardioversion three weeks ago.  He started with an electrocardiograph and followed it with a blood pressure test.  The former showed my heart continues to beat in sinus rhythm and the latter read 115/78.  All good!  We then had a conversation about my prognosis during which he said I could resume my normal life.  I was particularly interested in the viability of a long backcountry hiking trip I hope to make later in the year down the Appalachian Trail in the US.  He said that, subject to carrying some precautionary medication, there was no reason to cancel, though he wants to see me again before I go.

Terrigal Haven this morning.

The possibility of reversion to Atrial Flutter remains (as high as 50% according to some research), but apparently my risk factors are low.  The way forward is becoming clearer and my optimism is growing.  I will continue running, but avoid racing, and resume planning my hiking trip.  It could be a lot worse.

Rob de Castella

Me (in green hoops) at the 16km mark en route to my PB marathon
(2nd, 2:19:06)
behind Rob De Castella (1st, 2:14:44) at Point Cook,
Victoria, in June 1979.
One of my claims to fame is that I ran second to Rob de Castella, Australia's most famous marathoner, in his first marathon.  The apocryphal story is that Rob only ran the marathon, the 1979 Victorian Championship, to get a place in the Victorian team for the Australian Championship to be held in Perth later in the year.  His girlfriend lived in Perth, and he had no money.

I've often said that to be a great runner you need to inherit the right genes from your parents, have the self-discipline to do the necessary training and hard-nosed racing, and be lucky enough to avoid serious injury.  I think Rob had all of those attributes and used them to become the best in the world.

Winning the Cinque Mulini race
in Italy.

I first became aware of Rob when he was still a junior athlete and can remember him as an impoverished student driving an old Peugeot 403 and camping near us for one of the first Bacchus 12000 races at Griffith (see post titled Bacchus 12000).  There was no arrogance, but you sensed there was enormous potential and I was always a keen follower of his running career and proud to know him.

We were more acquaintances than friends, but often trained with the same groups, especially on the long Sunday runs in the Dandenongs (see post titled Ferny Creek 21).  As I recall, after running the regular 21 Miler for some years, I decided I needed to add some distance to bring it up to 25 miles some Sundays, and was gratified to see Rob occasionally following suit a few months later.  There were also some Wednesday evening runs in Melbourne.  They were fast 15-20 milers after work over inner city parks and roads and I can remember grimly hanging on to the small bunch of class runners as we flew across Royal Park at better than 6 minute mile pace.

Although he had already represented Australia internationally as a cross-country runner, that first marathon in 1979 signalled the start of a famous career that included Commonwealth Games, World Championship, Boston and New York titles, along with a world's best time.



The last time I trained with Rob was when we passed through Boulder, Colorado, where he was living as a full-time professional athlete, while travelling the US in 1985.  The morning run was a few miles with him and Rosa Mota, one of the best female marathoners of her era, and the evening session was on the track at the local university where I was totally out of my depth in twelve laps of sprinting the straights.

He was always a class, or two, above me as a runner, but I felt a kinship because I knew first-hand how hard he trained to get where he did.

I ran just 5km around Copa this morning, but maybe ran a little harder.  I coped well enough, but never felt comfortable.  I was stiff and my knees hurt.  What was more disturbing, however, was the post-run read-out on my heart monitor which showed an erratic beat for the first ten minutes.  It could be a technical glitch, but I was conscious of an uneasy feeling in my chest early in the run.  Memo to self: start slowly and build into future runs.

Changing expectations

Bouddi National Park coastline.

I can already sense my mindset changing, and much more quickly than expected.

When you can't run, you tell yourself you will be satisfied with just being able to jog 5km a day.  When you get to jogging 5km a day, you tell yourself you will be satisfied if you can just run 10km per day, with the occasional long run.  And so it goes.  Before long, you will just be satisfied if you can get back to the fitness level you enjoyed before sustaining the injury.

Lovely single-track in Bouddi
National Park.

This has always the pattern for me when dealing with a serious running injury, but somehow I thought the life-threatening health scare at Christmas might lead to an attitude change.  In some ways it's frightening, and in other ways comforting, to find that, post-injury, little has changed.  Scary, because it worries me that I'm not paying sufficient heed to the risks of reversion to heart arrhythmia and the impact that may have on my future quality of life.  Comforting, because it's good to know that my problems haven't changed me that much.

The fire-trail down to
Little Beach.

I made it around the 14km Trotters run on Saturday (see post titled Looking up) with no apparent ill-effects.  After two subsequent easier running days, I asked myself this morning why shouldn't I run a bit further today, and maybe hit one of my favourite local trails.  Part of my reasoning related to the psychological boost I would get from returning to my usual running haunts, and part of the reasoning was that the further I ran in training, the sooner I would regain fitness and the easier running would become.

The more I run, the less focussed I am on my heartbeat and breathing.  I'm finding that a conscious decision to run within myself is sufficient to keep my breathing controlled and my heartbeat within comfortable limits.  I'm wearing a heart monitor now for my runs and it confirms that my heart rate is averaging around 150bpm during runs, reaching a maximum of around 160bpm.  It seems to me that, though getting my heart rate higher would accelerate my return to fitness, I will still benefit from longer easier runs, healthwise and weightwise.

Little Beach this morning.

I ran about 13km today along trails to the deserted Little Beach on a warm and sunny morning.  I walked up the steepest hill, and stopped a couple of times for views and photos, but still worked up a very good sweat.  On the downside, my chronic right knee injury was quite painful at times.  It doesn't seem like the time off running, during which it was not painful at all, had done it any good.  But the pain is a price I'm happy to pay just to be running again.

Ouch!

Not good news!

After two months of no running, and despondency about my health problems, I know I have put on some weight.  The shorts are a little tighter, as are the T-shirts, and I can't see as many ribs in the mirror.  Up until today, I had tried not to worry about it too much.  Dealing with health concerns and the inability to run were stress enough without beating myself up about my eating or weight (see my blog post about Compensatory Eating).

On Saturday I managed to run 14km, and have now run every day for nearly two weeks.  Although not out of the woods, health-wise, it's time to get back to normal.  "Normal" includes weighing myself regularly and trying to stay at, or below, 68kg.  Not only do I feel healthier at that weight (and my clothes fit better), but it reduces the chances of injury.  I do have a chronic right knee problem (see post titled Adaptation), and it has been quite sore since I resumed running.  I firmly believe that weighing less will alleviate some of the strain.

Much faster and lighter at Croydon in the UK in 1975.

Anyway, after my run this morning, I stepped on the scales for the first time in over two months - 74.0kg!  It was demoralising to see this number, and a big wake-up call.  Even though I can't run the kilometres I would like, I can exert more discipline over what I eat.  It's time to get back onto my "no snacks, no desserts and no second helpings" diet with small breakfasts and lunches.  Occasional treats will be allowed, but I need to be much more strict overall.

My 5km run was a little faster and more comfortable this morning, though my right knee hurt and I'm still running slowly.

Washington DC

US Capitol Building.

Washington DC offers unique running.  Since my first visit in 1985, I have visited it many times for business and pleasure, and always looked forward to my regular run around the Washington Mall.  The exact distance has varied, depending on where I was staying, but my basic Washington DC 10km loop has remained the same.

Looking past the Capitol Building along the Mall to
the Washington Monument.

I try not use the word "unique" too often, but it's appropriate in this case.  Where else in the world can a 10km run take you past the United States Capitol Building, various parts of the Smithsonian Museum, the Washington Monument, the Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, the Reflective Pool, and (distantly) the White House, as well as the Potomac River and many other sights, well-known memorials and institutions.

Looking the other way from the Washington Monument
along the Mall to the Capitol Building.

Before 9/11, security wasn't as tight around the US Capitol, and you could run quite close to the building.  It's a bit different today, but even then you could get into trouble.  While staying with friends for a couple of weeks in 1985, and still training twice a day, I would run hard up the hill on which the Capitol sits, sometimes in darkness.  On one of those occasions, my way was suddenly barred by two policemen who emerged from the gloom and asked me to identify myself.  Of course, I wasn't carrying any ID, but after a chat they let me continue on my way.  Subsequently, I tended to stay on the more well-lit paths closer to the road after dark.

The Jefferson Memorial and the path along the shore of
the Potomac Tidal Basin.

A good part of the 10km loop runs along the flattish and wide gravel paths on either side of the National Mall.  It's a popular place to run at either end of the day, but can get busy with tourists at other times.  When feeling good, I always enjoyed building to a good pace on the long straights and chasing down and over-taking fellow runners.

Apart from the impressive buildings and monuments, the area is characterised by expansive views and vast green lawns which, depending on the weather and time of day, can be very popular with tourists and locals alike.  I have a memory of running, one balmy summer evening, past countless games of mixed gender baseball and ultimate frisbee, played by people of all shapes, sizes and ages (mostly public servants, I would guess), running, shouting and encouraging each other.  A very happy scene.

Looking from the Lincoln Memorial over the Reflective
Pool to the Washington Monument.

I also have a memory of running the course on a chill winter morning with an icy wind blowing, remnant snow of a recent storm banked against park walls and buildings, and the few pedestrians protected by big coats and sturdy headgear.  Whatever the weather, it was always an interesting and inspiring place to run.

I plodded around 5km in Copa today, feeling a little stiff and sore after yesterday's exertions, particularly my chronically injured right knee.  For the first time, I wore a new heart monitor linked to my smart phone to collect data about the run and my associated effort for later computer upload.  It showed my average heart rate as 140bpm, with a maximum of 162bpm, and an average speed of 6 mins/km - pretty slow!

Looking up

Erina Valley is part of Woody's Wun.

The Terrigal Trotters Saturday morning run this week was the 14.2km "Woody's Wun".  Coincidentally, it was the last Trotters run I did while still fully functional, back in mid-December.  It was also 6km longer than my longest run since resuming training nine days ago, and incorporated some very steep and long hills.  That made me (and others) quite apprehensive about whether I should be attempting it.  On the other hand, there was a sort of appealing symmetry if I could get around the run OK.  I wouldn't be resuming where I left off, because last time I ran quite hard and well, but just completing the course without incident would be a significant step on the road back in my mind.

I managed to fall over crossing these paddocks this morning.

I was last of the hundred or so runners climbing the first rise away from the Terrigal Surf Club, but that was a good place to be, and pretty much where I stayed for the first few kilometres.  Despite constantly self-assessing my respiration and heartbeat, it was a great pleasure to be running along in the pre-dawn darkness bantering with my club-mates again.  There have been times during the last two months when it seemed possible those days were over, and probable that the hiatus would be much longer.

Woody's Wun goes right through the Erina Fair
Shopping Mall.

On each of the solid climbs in the next two kilometres, I slowed to a walk with some of my colleagues, only resuming when the gradient eased.  Normally I would never walk up a hill during a Trotters run, but my expectations have changed, at least for the time being.  They were the kind of hills that would have brought me to a staggering halt with a heart rate of 230bpm before the Cardioversion eighteen days ago, so it was encouraging to get up them comfortably.  From there, I ran the whole way, apart from climbing a few fences and one fall while crossing a paddock.  I particularly enjoyed the steady slow climb up the side of forested Kincumba Mountain along a very technical kilometre of single track and the gentle descent which followed along a beautiful fire-trail.  Magic!

The fire-trail on Kincumba Mountain.

I even caught a few people over the last half of the run, as I settled into an easy unstressed pace, but had to keep reminding myself not to get competitive.  This will be one of my challenges going forward.  Although there were still some aches and pains, particularly in the knees, I was in better shape than a few days ago, and really enjoyed the run.  May there be many more!

Imagination?

Murray River.

Most of today was spent driving the 1,000km from Melbourne back to Copa.  I was on the road by 5:00am, after a night during which I woke several times.  I suspect the real reason for the disturbed sleep was that I knew I had an early start, but each time I woke, I found myself lying there, very conscious of my heartbeat and trying to determine whether the beat was regular.

After my 5km run yesterday morning, I was checking my pulse and it seemed that there was a double beat about every 20 to 30 seconds, although it could have been my imagination.  I hadn't experienced any breathlessness or palpitations while running, but nevertheless I'm now a bit worried that the double beat, if it's real, signals the early stages of the return of my Atrial Flutter.

Bike path along the Murray.

As I drove north along the Hume Highway in pre-dawn darkness, I wondered about the wisdom of running again today.  However, after three hours of driving and feeling a little tired, I stopped in Albury and set out along a bike path by the Murray River.  It was a pleasantly cool morning and I was pleased to feel more like a runner than earlier in the week, though somewhat apprehensive.  I wasn't running hard, but was moving faster with less stiffness in the muscles and joints.  The faster speed meant my lungs were working a little harder, and I was breathing in on two steps and out on one, but still controlled.  Nevertheless, I was constantly self-assessing myself, looking for any sign that my heart was racing or my blood pressure dropping.

Billabong at the turnaround.

After about 3km of following the full and fast-flowing river, I reached a billabong and the end of the bike path and turned round.  It was nice to see the Murray River looking so healthy after a number of dry years.

Hovell Tree Park.

The path returned through the Hovell Tree Park, where I had finished my 440km three-week hike along the Hume & Hovell Track about ten months ago.  The Hovell Tree was marked, nearly 190 years ago, by one of the explorers after whom the walking track was named.  I could vividly remember finishing there at dusk, completely exhausted after compressing the planned last two days walk into one 50km day.  Despite my exhaustion on that last day, I had a great trip, and being there again made me wish it was a year ago when I was preparing for the trip, with no heart or lung problems in sight.  Just another reminder to make the most of my time.

I was again checking my pulse again after the run, and still wonder if there's an occasional double beat.  Generally, it seems regular and strong (and back under 50bpm at rest), but I still have a nagging concern.  I have an appointment with the cardiologist next week anyway, and he'll confirm one way or the other.  For the time being, I think I keep running daily.